Ties that Bind
by Kalika Barlow
Summary: Strayed from the path, they were tested. His righteous message was passed to them. When eight becomes ten, who will have the will to survive? "The only way we're getting out of this is if we trust each other." AU-II/III/IV, OCs
1. Kidnapping

**Chapter One - Kidnapping**

**A/N: Right, so I was talking with my co-writer, Renegade Vic, and we both agreed that the events in the Trap House could have potentially been altered for the better...along with most of the storyline of the SAW movies in general :P So, we've put our effort into creating 'Ties That Bind', our take on the franchise during and beyond Saw II...with a couple of OCs of course :) Hope you enjoy reading as much as we enjoyed writing!**

* * *

There were two things Mike became aware of on waking up- the first, that he was not on his couch in his apartment, as he had been when he had passed out earlier, and the second, that he had been drugged. The headache was proof enough for that.

Make it three things. The familiar weight of his switchblade was gone- someone had decided he wouldn't be needing it. The fact that someone had taken that into consideration meant, in all likelihood, that he would be needing it very much, very soon.

"The fuck…where am…" he mumbled, rising onto his hands and knees and looking around blearily. He was in a room somewhere, with a large safe standing in its center. The walls, yellowed and stained- probably equal parts humidity and various sources of smoke- had no windows- and one immensely large, metal door. It didn't look like it belonged with the rest of the room.

Four things. He wasn't alone- there were several others in the room, still unconscious. Mike forced himself to ignore the pounding in the back of his skull- a pounding worse than any hangover he had ever experienced- and rise to his feet. Immediately, he wished he hadn't; the sudden rush of blood through his body dazed him. Head rushes had always been brutal.

Nine other people. Four girls, five guys- six counting himself. Most of them looked older than he was; two looked his own age, and one was definitely younger by a couple of years.

Inhaling heavily, Ava decided that she was going to make her roommate quit smoking whatever the hell it was he was doped up on half of the time. The room they shared smelled more shitty than usual and her patience was running at a dangerous, all time low as it often did these days. She didn't even know why she bothered with him anymore. The stupid goddamn stoner was completely out of it half the time.

As she moved to rip back the covers of her bed, she realized two things. One, she didn't usually sleep on the floor. And two, she hadn't been at her room when she fell asleep. Groggily, she rose to her knees, her head heavy and her vision blurred.

"What the…the fuck…where am I?"

She struggled to her feet, adrenaline suddenly pumping through her system as her heart thumped in her chest. Another person across the room. Male. Probably older than she was, and certainly taller. There were others lying around them. She couldn't tell if they were breathing or not…

"Who the fuck are you?! What the fuck am I doing here?"

Ava's voice had risen several octaves on its own and she barely noticed it. Stumbling back, she collided heavily with the wall of…wherever it is she was, some of the paint coming away and sticking to her arms. She jumped away from it, brushing it off.

"Jesus, fuck!" she hissed, bits of flaky white sticking to her fingers.

"You think I know? I just woke up here…same as you," Mike replied, wincing as Ava's voice cut through the silence like a razor. "Mind keepin' your voice down a bit? In case the situation doesn't make it kind of obvious…we got drugged. Feels like a mosh pit is goin' on in my head, with everyone in it drunk on Jim Beam." The metaphor was too wordy- he realized it after he said it, but it was the closest fit to describe the dull agony that flared in the back of his skull with every beat of his pulse.

It was worse than when he had gotten into that fight with Jericho, after the fucker had wedged his riced-out Dodge into an alleyway, trying to take a shortcut in that race last year. He had a reputation for fighting dirty- but Mike hadn't listened. The prize money was singing a siren song even louder than his G6's engine- and he had won it, fair and square. Jericho had disagreed…and so had his tire iron.

A thought came to Mike, fast and terrifying. What if Jericho, or some goon he had paid off, had dumped him off here? Were the others just a cover-up? It wouldn't be surprising.

_Wait…no…_ The guy closest to the safe was Xavier Chavez. Jericho's personal dealer. Why would he be in here- _and_ drugged like everyone else?

There would be time to figure it out later. Right now, all that really mattered was getting out.

"So, who are you, anyway?" he asked the only other conscious inhabitant of the room. "Normally I'd be a bit more social, but this whole 'waking up drugged, with nine total strangers' thing kinda overrules that." He pulled his hair back over his shoulders, silently grateful that whoever had put him here had at least had the courtesy to leave his elastic hair-tie on his wrist. Shoulder-length hair got a lot of the rocker- _and_ racer- girls turning their heads…but it was hell in the garage, sometimes.

Ava's upper lip curled as she looked the only other conscious occupant of the room up and down. Shoulder-length hair, jeans, band T-shirt…probably some heavy metal rocker that she'd had the fortune to pass over in her time at school, or some street druggie, she didn't know or care at this point.

As a teenager and well into her early adulthood, Ava had kept only certain company that consisted of respected members of society that appreciated her more than any other social circles usually would. Most people said she had a sort of superiority complex when she was around other people that she deemed worthy of her attentions, which was ridiculous really. But right now, whoever she might have been with didn't enter into the equation.

Whoever this man was, she had woken up in a room with him and these other people and there was no point in making enemies so early on. If they were in a kidnapping situation, it was probably better to make as many 'friends' as possible. And Ava had always been proud of her sense of etiquette.

"Ava…Ava Sullivan," she said, inhaling heavily as the hysteria that had rushed through her system not two minutes earlier dulled down to a mild pulse that allowed her to both calm herself and begin to wrap her head around the situation, whatever this…situation might have been. Her knees still felt weak and she was shaking, but at least her mind was clearer. "You?"

"Mike King…well, depends on who you ask," Mike replied, "sometimes I'm Mike, sometimes I'm 'that fuckin' maniac at three in the morning,' but that's only on race days."

Ava…he'd seen her somewhere before. It was tough to place where that somewhere had been, exactly- she didn't seem like she would appreciate his 'sport,' or the music that the band he had gotten into a few months ago created. Then again, not very many people _did_ seem to appreciate Ripjack. He'd given Adam most of their fliers a while back, but that lazy sack of meat had probably just used them to patch the holes in his improvised 'dark room.' He was a good guy, yeah, but way too obsessed with his camera. It was going to get him in trouble some day…

Come to think of it, no one had heard from Adam in a while. He had been talking nonstop about some easy job he'd gotten, not too long before he dropped off the radar. Maybe someone got tired of him and set him up? It wasn't a fun thought, but it was hard _not_ to expect that from this city.

The others were starting to move around- at least, most of them. The girl by the bricked-up fireplace- she was actually kinda good-looking, even though she looked like she'd gotten ambushed in her sleep too- was silent and unmoving, and the guy with the shaved head, over in the corner, was just as still.

"What the fuck is this?" Xavier's voice was instantly familiar; Mike had to suppress the urge to cringe. They had never really crossed paths in any significant way, but he had heard horror stories about the drug dealer from Dave and Mira. Apparently Dave had once had a buddy that had been slow to pay up, and Xavier had gotten his hands on him. Apparently. Dave was _always_ the 'guy who knew a guy' when it came to urban legends.

"I dunno. We just woke up here, too…"

Ava instantly knew that she didn't like the muscular Latino and took a few steps back purely out of instinct, trying to put as much distance between herself and the much larger man who looked uncannily bear-like.

"Oh god…oh god…please…"

She glanced down and saw a young woman, not much older than she was clutching her long blonde hair in fear, her wide blue eyes bulging with terror and confusion. "Oh, god, where am I?!"

She was on the verge of a panic and was shaking. And to be frank, Ava didn't blame her. She'd felt exactly the same way a few minutes ago.

"We don't know yet. We just woke up here." She couldn't keep the bored tone out of her voice. Judging by how many people were still unconscious, it wasn't going to be the last time either she or Mike had to give the 'explanation', such as it was.

She doubted that Xavier had enough brain cells to string two sentences together intelligibly. He struck her as more the hired help than anything else, her initial impression made clearer by the tattoo on his bicep. Prison ink. She could recognize it a mile away.

"Try waking the rest up," she said sharply to Mike. "We need to figure out why the fuck it is we're all here, alright?"

She ran a hand through her hair, a few dark strands getting caught in her fingers as she did so.

"Dammit!"

What the hell had she done to deserve this bullshit? Kidnapped and thrown into a room with a band rocker and a prison bunker, and probably more to come? If she didn't know any better, she'd guess the blonde was a hooker of some kind, an occupation probably shared by the brunette in the pink halter.

Without a word to Ava, Mike nodded in her general direction and busied himself with the nearest of the room's occupants.

"Hey, c'mon- wake up, man. We gotta get everyone up and get the fuck out of here." It wasn't panic, exactly, that Mike was feeling- he knew what panic was. Panic was riding shotgun with Jake in his Toyota when the brakes decided to lock. Panic was staring down Jericho with a tire iron. This was more…urgency. Whatever was going on, there had to be a way out. There just had to be.

The kid- he really couldn't have been more than seventeen or maybe eighteen, now that Mike got a look at his face up close- stirred, blinking awake and jerking himself to a standing position almost immediately. "What…what the fuck?"

"Yeah. My reaction too, kid. Just chill out for a second, panicking isn't gonna help anyone. Deep breaths," he suppressed a chuckle as the sandy-haired youth winced at the room's distinctive odor. "Yeah, smells like retirement home ass, I thought so too. You get used to it though. The headache's the real bitch, though. Just get your bearings and help me wake everyone else up, huh?"

He looked kind of familiar, too, come to think of it. At least, his facial structure in general did. Was he that same kid who had tagged Isaac's car?

Nah. Couldn't be. He had darker hair.

The brunette in pink was next-closest- and she was already waking up when Mike got to her. She didn't look scared as much as she did confused- that was good. She might be able to figure something out, if push came to shove.

"Hey. You feelin' all right?" he asked, extending a gloved hand to her, which she took, rising unsteadily against the wall with Mike's help.

"Y-yeah. What the fuck is going on here? Wait a sec- Mike?!"

Addison. It had been months…and months hadn't been nearly long enough. Their relationship, if it could even have been called that, had never been 'on the rocks'- that would have implied that it had ever _not_ been so. They'd met at a concert, had a couple of drinks, went home together- and found out the next morning that the vodka hadn't skewed either of their taste too much. Two weeks later, he found out she was a junkie. Mostly coke, but she admitted to trying heroin and liking it. Mira had warned him not to get too involved, that Addison would just leech him dry and leave him- but Mike had chosen not to listen to his friend, even though she was constantly right and knew it, and Addison had indeed bled his winnings away like they had somewhere they _needed_ to go.

"Oh, fuck…Addison, look. Shit is shit is shit, and right now, we're neck deep in it. So I suggest we put _our_ shit aside, and deal with this _other_ shit now, and go our separate ways. Catch on?"

Upon seeing Mike and the brunette, whom she now knew was called Addison, interact, Ava reflected on the other occupants of the room, aside from the blonde that had since backed into a corner and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. Her panic-attack was in full swing by now and she looked paler in the face than she had done a few moments ago.

"Hey, what's your name?" Ava shot at her, her voice a cross between business and compassion, an odd blend that she only just managed to pull off.

The blonde blinked, almost like she hadn't heard the question.

"I'm…Laura…" She'd paused before speaking, almost as if she'd actually forgotten her own name in her near frenzied state. Ava had seen this type of behaviour before. Another minute and she'd be freaking out in the worst possible way.

"Okay, Laura. Just take a few deep breaths and try and calm down--"

"Calm down!?" Laura cried. "Just how the _fuck_ am I meant to calm down!" She turned to the wall behind her and seemed to contemplate actually clawing at it. "SOMEBODY HELP!!"

"That's not gonna fucking do anything," Ava snapped, her patience running thin. "Whoever put us here obviously factored in the possibility of us screaming for help."

"Whoever put us here?" Laura looked more scared at the thought. Ava was reminded briefly of Brian, her younger half-brother, who had that very expression permanently fixed on his face. The boy had had a spine made of balsa wood.

"Yeah. Somehow I don't think this was just some wild rave party, do you?"

Truth be told, Ava hadn't actually ever _been_ to a rave. She'd heard about them and seen them, but never bothered to attend. The one time she _had_ received an invite, she'd been too fixated on her work. Lawrence had promised her a raise and she had been determined to prove to him that she deserved it.

By the time he had turned around to tend to the next of the room's new 'inhabitants,' all of them except the dark-haired girl in the blue had come to of their own accord. If the rest of them were any indicator, she'd be waking up in the next few moments as well; better to turn their attention to the room itself, and check on her if she didn't get up in the next few minutes.

Xavier was already trying the door- trying to push it open, or pull it off its hinges. The whole effort looked more like he was trying to violate the keyhole, though; Mike could barely stop a smirk from spreading across his face, despite the situation.

"Okay, something fucked-up is goin' on here, and I wanna know what all of you know." The African man- he was definitely older than Mike, but not middle-aged yet, either- had definitely come to his full senses faster than most of the others. He was asking the right questions, now that Mike took his words into consideration.

"I've got nothin'. Had a couple of drinks, popped in some old movie, passed out in my living room- woke up in this shithole," Mike responded, sizing up his fellow thinker. This guy looked like he had been around for a while- seen things most people didn't, and learned from them. He didn't look like a psychopath, either- Xavier had that particular act down in spades.

"Yeah, that's about all I've got, too. How about you?"

Ava shook her head, racking her brains in an attempt to recall the last few hours, which had become mysteriously fuzzy and distorted. Odd.

"I don't remember much. I think I was heading home from…from the library, I think. That's all I got."

A particularly loud grunt made her jump as Xavier continued in his attempt to rip the door off its hinges, either out of insanity or desperation. She didn't want to find out. The man was clearly not in his right mind if all he could think of was escaping in such a brutal way. She didn't know for sure, but she had an inkling that whoever put them here would have thought of making the door strong enough to withstand the assault of a fully grown man. Not that she'd ever say that aloud. From what she'd seen of him, he was sure he'd take out his frustrations on her, which was something she'd prefer to avoid.

She glanced over to Laura.

"What about you? How'd you get here?"

The blonde shook her head, eyes wild.

"Don't know…I…I don't remember…"

Ava was struck by a nearly overwhelming need for a cigarette, which she chalked up to the smell of the house around her, and began to pace the length of the room, muttering to herself and nearly tripping over the one of the other unconscious people, a woman. She didn't stir.

"Well, remember if you can, all right? Anything helps." Mike began to press on the wall, wandering around the room's boundaries, testing the wall as he went. Two of the walls- the one across from the door, and the one to Mike's right when he had woken up- sounded solid, like nothing but brick lay behind them. It made sense, considering the fireplace…but there was definitely a room on the opposite side. There wasn't much to use if they wanted to break through the wall- but if he could get the idea into Xavier's head, Mike had few doubts that the walking tank of a man would bash his way through with his own body, if he had to.

Assuming he didn't use someone _else's_ body, anyway.

"I was out…walking." Addison began, hesitation obvious in her voice. "Someone grabbed me…I dunno who. Grabbed me from behind and pulled me back." She sounded close to tears; Mike had heard that particular tone in her voice before, when he had refused to give her money to fuel her addictions.

"All right, so what we know is some fuck's grabbin' people and knocking them out, and bringin' them back here," Jonas muttered, adjusting the shoulders of his jacket. "It's a start. How about you, man?" Xavier turned to face him, faint beads of sweat evident on his brow.

"Just got done at work. Next thing I know- I'm here."

_Work, he says. Sellin' drugs isn't work,_ Mike wanted to say, despite his knowledge of what Xavier would do to him if he _did_ say anything.

"Okay, so we've established that we're all either fuzzy on what happened or we got grabbed and drugged. Certainly clears up how we got brought here without noticing, but other than that, it accomplishes nothing! This isn't fucking helping!" Ava snapped, kicking the wall with the toe of her boot in agitation, her blood simmering.

"There's not much else…we can do…" Laura's voice was quiet, almost silent. She really wasn't much for 'public speaking' or even just drawing attention to herself. The blonde was basically just a wallflower.

"Thank you for that, Laura," Ava replied, her tone close to scathing as she attempted to remain calm. Getting pissed wasn't going to help the situation any. "I think we've figured that out by now."

She resumed her pacing, now biting into her bottom lip and taking care not to step on anyone else.

"What about you, kid?" she shot at the teenage boy, who was sitting in the corner of the room with his face against his knees. "You remember anything?"

He shook his head once.

"No. Nothing."

Ava threw up her hands in exasperation.

"Great. That's perfect. Basically everyone is totally fucking ignorant of how they got here. There goes any possible chance we had for figuring out why the fuck we're here in the first place, doesn't it?"

Mike raised an eyebrow at Ava's miniature meltdown, trying desperately to resist the urge to comment on her lack of composure- and ultimately failing.

"So quick to just up and toss any kind of talking out the window, aren't we?" He chuckled, gesturing to the room with open arms. "Christ. You're the people person here. C'mon, Ava- battle plans! If some sick fuck's got us all holed up in a room like this, either they'll be coming _back_, or there's something we're missing in this room itself." He tapped on the safe, then spun the dial a few times for good measure.

"What's in the safe? Seems like it wouldn't just 'be here.' Anyone got a safe at home?" The others shook their heads or offered no comment. "You don't just 'have' a safe. You put things in 'em- important things. Whatever's in here probably needs getting _out_."

"Yeah, that's good, I like how you're thinkin'," Jonas responded, kneeling next to the safe as well. "Anyone know how to _crack_ a safe?"

"Battle plans? _Safe cracking?_ Do you have any idea how insane you sound?" Ava demanded. "Look, we've been 'holed up' in here with no explanation as to why or how. Exactly what is there to be gained by trying to open up a safe with god knows _what_ inside it. You said it's meant to keep important things, what if there's something dangerous in there? Have you considered that?"

"If there was something dangerous in there, don't you think the psycho would've made it easy to open the fucking thing?" Addison shot at her.

Unable to come up with a decent response, Ava contented herself with a glare in the other woman's direction, folding her arms across her chest and saying no more.

Addison, happy with her victory, smirked at Ava.

"Some 'people person' you are," she sneered.

Annoyed, Ava rolled her eyes, holding back the powerful urge to permanently change the angle of the bitch's nose in the most painful way she knew how.

"Can we not?" The teen in the corner said weakly. "Fighting's not gonna help either."

"The kid's right, we need to back off each other and focus on getting our shit together. What's your name, anyway?" Mike asked, glancing toward the youth inquisitively. Kill the Gods, huh? He had good taste in music.

"Daniel…" he replied, shrinking further into the corner, if that were physically possible.

"Good. And yeah, I know I sound crazy, but if some crazy shit starts happening, it's how I rationalize. Make a plan, figure out what the fuck is doing whatever is crazy. Fight it. Beat it. Overcome it. You get what I'm saying?" Mike turned back to Ava, taking a half-step in her direction.

"Look. I get you're freaked out, I am too. I guess this kind of thing gets people off on the wrong foot…wouldn't know, but I guess. Always seems that way in the movies, and then people don't work together, and whatever the fuck the psycho-killer has in store _work_, 'cause no one trusts anyone, or even wants to work with 'em. Night of the Living Dead, classic example." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daniel nod in silent approval. Good, the kid knew Romero. There was hope yet.

"Yeah…I watched this movie on TV last week, this guy was a reporter in a war zone, right? He falls asleep in his hotel room, and then he wakes up, he's in a cell…no windows or light," the until-now silent man in the white shirt added, his voice rising to a frantic pitch.

"Keep your over the top, pedantic bullshit to yourself," Ava snarled, rubbing her arms in order to warm herself up somewhat, as the room seemed to have dropped about ten degrees and she was freezing. "Last thing we fucking need is a worse case scenario, asshole, because clearly you're never been drunk and woken up somewhere."

"I've been drunk, I spent three years in college," the guy snapped back, running a hand across his hair, which was already slick with sweat. "Drunk…this isn't drunk. This is kidnapping."


	2. Hello and Welcome

**Chapter Two - Hello and Welcome**

**Co-written with Renegade Vic**

* * *

The weight of the word chilled the room even more, the air thick with fear and horrified realization.

Kidnap. That's what this was. Someone had kidnapped them all and thrown them into this room. That was why they couldn't remember anything.

"We were all…all drugged," Ava said quietly. "God…"

"He spent nine _years_ in that room!" the man in the white shirt continued, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.

"Nine years?" Xavier spat. "Man, that's nothin'. Get over it!"

"What do you mean 'get over it'?" Laura cried, the first strong sentence she'd spoken since her awakening. Ava glanced over her shoulder and saw that the other woman's eyes were filled with tears. Past panic and right into misery. Typical behaviour of a kidnapped person.

"I mean, stop bitching about it and let's _do_ something!" Xavier was getting panicked, too- it wasn't difficult for Mike to see. The prospect of being stuck in the room, with no hope for reprieve or rescue, was definitely bleak.

Only if they let it be.

"I think we should all just calm down-" Jonas began, but Addison cut him off abruptly.

"Shut up! Shut up! I hear something…" she murmured, head pressed against the door. The wild-eyed corporate greaseball- since he didn't seem to have a name, all Mike had to identify him by was a description- pushed up against the door, craning his neck to listen closer.

"What is it?" he asked, in all likelihood too freaked-out by his own paranoia to listen closely enough to hear anything, anyway_. Stupid fucker…._Mike lamented. Whoever this other guy was, he was about as useful- and had about as many redeeming qualities- as a crushed tin can.

"It's ticking. I can hear ticking," Addison replied, visibly recoiling from Xavier as he approached the door as well.

"Ticking? Like a b-" A sharp groan cut Mike's cold attempt at banter abruptly short. The girl in the blue had woken up- and was having what looked like a nervous breakdown, clutching at her head as if something were latched onto it.

_Aw, shit._ She was a mental case- and didn't react well to whatever their captor had used to drug her, either, if the sudden coughing-up of what looked like stomach acid were any indicator at all.

Jonas was the first to move over to her, his hands clamping down on the woman's shoulders as she backed into the wall, her breathing heavy and labored.

She screamed as he touched her, her eyes wide and terrified, but she didn't try to fight him off. Perhaps the blood had not totally returned to her limbs yet.

"Hey, hey! Calm down, calm down. What's your name?"

She seemed to managed to get a hold of herself for long enough to speak, her voice so quiet Ava had to strain to listen.

"Amanda…" She whimpered. "Where am I?"

Another question, albeit the same one they'd be asking themselves since they got here. Ava wanted to say something, but she held her tongue, having learned from experience that it was unwise to aggravate someone in the middle of a panic attack, not to mention when there were drugs in their system.

"I don't know. Nobody knows. We all just woke up here like you."

There was a pause, the look on the woman's face morphing into one of absolute pain and horror.

"NO!" She smashed her fists against the wall with a shriek of agony, tearing down the torn curtain and throwing it down. "NO! NO!"

Panic. Anger. Misery. On this chick, it was a potent if not deadly combination. She struck Jonas in the chest as he attempted to calm her and fell to her knees, beating at the sides of the safe and tugging hard on the handle, sheer desperation showing in her face.

"FUCK!"

"What?" Jonas and Mike asked simultaneously, the former watching her frantic searching with alarm as the latter sidestepped Amanda's search routine. She stopped in front of the bricked-in fireplace, pulling a ruined and indecipherable painting from its hanging above the mantle. "What are you lookin' for?"

Amanda didn't respond- merely continued her desperate exploration of the room, kneeling in front of the fireplace and testing the bricks. A pang of embarrassment struck Mike as he realized he had been over the same spot already, but had found nothing- a pang which intensified as he watched Amanda pull bricks aside and unearth a tape player.

She was a lot smarter than her panic attack had suggested- if she could keep her head on right, she might be their ticket out. It was a pretty big 'if' though…

Jonas clasped his hands on her shoulders again, drawing back slightly as Amanda whirled to face him.

"What is this?" he half-demanded, gesturing to the tape player; after a moment's hesitation, Amanda replied, her voice still shaky, but under infinitely-better control than she had been moments before.

"Everything you need to know is on this…" She thumbed the "Play" button down.

"Greetings and welcome…" the voice on the tape rasped. "I trust that you are all wondering where you are. I can assure you that, while your location is not important, what these walls offer you IS important. Salvation, if you earn it."

Mike felt the blood in his veins chill suddenly as their captor's message continued to play. This sounded way too familiar…

News reports. The entire city had been in an uproar about some 'Jigsaw Killer' who was abducting people and killing them off in all sorts of inventive and brutal ways, but so far, he- or she, or _they_- hadn't been found. It was the stuff of horror movies…and that fact did not sit well with Mike. He had seen enough such movies to know just what the odds of surviving were.

Not fucking much, especially if you didn't _think_.

"Three hours from now, the door to this house will open. Unfortunately, you only have…two hours…to live." Ava felt all the blood rush from her face and her body began to shake. It was Jigsaw. It had to be. There was no other fuckin explanation. This is what he did. Kidnap, 'test'…and kill.

"Right now, you are breathing in a deadly nerve agent," the voice on the tape recorder continued. "You've been breathing it since you arrived here. Those of you familiar with the Tokyo Subway attacks will know its devastating effects on the human body. The only way to overcome it…and walk out that door…is to find an antidote."

Ava's heart leapt into her throat, a mixture of terror and joy coursing through her. There was an antidote? "Several are hidden around this house. One is inside the safe in front of you. You all possess the combination to the safe. Think hard…the numbers are in the back of your mind. The clues to their order can be found…over the rainbow.

"Once you realize what you all have in common, you will gain a better understanding…of why you're here. X marks the spot for that clue, so look carefully. Let the game begin."

Laura was crying now. Amanda was quaking, her breath coming out in short gasps as she white knuckled the device in her hand. The other occupants of the room seemed confused, scared, angry or all three.

Jonas grabbed the tape, as Amanda began to slide down the wall.

"What does he mean, 'gas'?" Addison demanded.

"And how did you know where to find this?"

Amanda's only response was a whimper as she curled up against the wall.

"This is bullshit," Xavier muttered, snatching up a small, white envelope that had apparently fallen out of the same alcove the tape player had come from and tearing it open. "Do not attempt to use this key on the door to this room," he read aloud, holding a small key between his fingers and examining it. "Fuck this, man." He strode toward the door, followed closely by the paranoid-greaseball-guy, who echoed his sentiment.

"Yeah, fuck this! That's a good idea." Mike's stomach flopped over itself in disgust. Fucking brown-nose. Whoever the guy was, there were infinite copies of him running around in the world, all slaves to their cubicles with the same meaningless lives, just as interchangeable as cogs in a machine.

"No! No, that's not a good idea," Amanda protested. Mike found himself agreeing with her- there hadn't been an explanation as to what would happen, but he had a sinking feeling it would be something tremendously bad. What if Xavier got them all locked in the room, permanently? The thought of starving to death, or dying of dehydration, was _not_ a pleasant one to Mike- even if the gas was just a ruse. There was no way he was dying because of Xavier's stupidity.

"So what are we gonna do, huh? Sit here?" The drug dealer seemed hell-bent on doing things his way, heedless of reason.

"The note said not to use the key…" Amanda warned, burying her face in her knees.

"Who gives a shit about the note, all right? This is all a big goddamn joke- and I'm about to end it."

"Dumbass…" Mike muttered to himself, watching with mounting dread as Xavier fumbled with the key for a moment before sliding it into the lock. He turned the key-

-BANG. The unmistakable sound of gunfire rang out, its source unknown- until the greasy-looking man in the white shirt slumped away from the door, his eye socket all-but hollowed out by the force of the bullet that had blasted clear through his skull.

"FUCK!" Mike shouted, realizing with disgust that the sudden warm wetness that streaked down his torso was, in fact, brain matter from the now-dead man who lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

Ava screamed, stumbling away from the slimeball's corpse, her face splattered with his blood. Laura batted at her chest, her upper torso covered in blood and bits of brain, howling in terror.

"FUCK! Fuck, he's fucking _dead!_" Ava was moments away from a full blown panic attack, her hands furiously wiping away the blood, inadvertently smearing it over her nose and mouth in an attempt to rid herself of it.

Jonas seized Amanda by the arms and slammed her back into the wall, still looking over his shoulder at the corpse on the floor.

"You better start talkin' right now!" he demanded, turning to her. "What is this?"

"It's a game…" Amanda whimpered, her voice shrill.

"Ain't no fuckin' game!" Jonas shouted. He was quickly losing whatever was left of his patience to panic. "My man just got his head blown off!"

"He's testing us!"

"Who's testing us?!"

"_Jigsaw…"_

So it really was him. The notorious murderer the police had been following since the discoveries of his 'victims', the most recent of which had been…fuck…she couldn't remember. She'd stopped watching the news after Lawrence disappeared.

"Who the fuck is Jigsaw?" Jonas shook Amanda, receiving no response.

"Don't you watch the fucking news?" Addison snapped, her hands curled into fists at her sides.

"No, who is he?"

"He's a serial killer," Ava said, her voice sounding cold and hollow to her own ears. Her defence mechanism had begun to kick in…

"No, he's not!" Amanda had moved out of Jonas' crushing 'embrace' and now stood next to the safe. And she was glaring at Ava. "He's _testing_ us. He wants us to survive this. But you have to play by the fucking rules!"

There was a momentary pause, her words impacting the group hard. Testing…rules…serial killer…Jigsaw…

"I'ma ask you again. How do you know all this?" Jonas asked.

Amanda turned, looking at the ground. Her eyes were misty, as if she was remembering something that she desperately wanted to forget, something that still kept her awake some nights.

Something terrible.

"Because I've played before…"

Mike could hardly believe his ears. Amanda had done this before? How did it- _any_ of it- work? What did she have to do? Could they do it again? The more questions he found himself wanting to ask, the less he knew which one to start with.

"Whoa, whoa. Back up. You did this before?" It was as good a start as any. Amanda nodded in response, backing away from both Jonas and Xavier, who seemed intent on keeping as little distance between themselves and her as possible. She wasn't going to be able to take them constantly breathing down her neck- and she was now their best bet at surviving at all.

"He…he helped me," Amanda stammered, fear and uncertainty rising in her voice. Mike stepped toward her- and then took another half-step forward, placing himself directly between Amanda and her newfound "followers."

"Hold it. You're freakin' her out, getting up close and personal like that," he warned, shifting his gaze from Jonas to Xavier and back again. "I get it's important to know what she knows, but scarin' the shit out of her isn't gonna help _anyone_." Jonas nodded, taking a step back; Xavier glared, a sullen scowl forming on his face.

"Yeah? And who made you mister high-and-mighty, punk? If you know what's good for you-" Xavier jabbed his finger into Mike's chest.

Whatever happened, it was over before it began. One second, Mike and Xavier were staring one another down- and the next, Xavier was on his knees, his arm pinned behind his back, with Mike standing behind him, torquing the drug dealer's wrist brutally.

"What? You'll try and lord it over me 'cause you've got the muscles, meatbag? Here's a tip next time," Mike hissed, shoving Xavier to the floor and sidestepping the kick that never came. "Don't fuck with the guy who knows three different martial arts styles. I'll run rings around your sorry ass."

At least he knew, now, that Xavier was less of a threat than he had been made out to be by Dave, Mira, and the others. He was all force, with no skill other than brutality- and Hapkido, Judo, and Aikido all emphasized ways to bring brutes like Xavier down without breaking a sweat.

"You know your shit, kid. What's your name again?" Jonas asked, his voice betraying obvious wariness.

"I'm Mike. Nothin' fancy to it."

"Remind me not to fuck with you on the outside, then, Mike."

Even in the room they'd most likely die in, the male testosterone levels had already skyrocketed before exploding like a firework. Ava groaned, running a hand over her face in exasperation.

"Can we not fucking do this, please?" she shot at Mike, who was still glaring at Xavier, who had since gotten to his feet and was looking murderous. "You stupid fuckwits can beat the shit out of each other all you like, it's not gonna help, okay? We just need to figure out how to get out of here!"

Now all the attention was on her, and she was certain she wasn't imagining Xavier's hand balling into a fist. If he had been pissed before, it was nothing compared to now. He practically had steam gushing from his ears.

"She's right…" Daniel wouldn't look at anyone, but he'd spoken up at least. "Fighting's not gonna help."

Sending an appreciative look the kid's way, Ava nodded.

"And how the fuck are we meant to do that?" Addison demanded. "I think we established that the key was a fucking bad idea, so what now? Wait for Jigsaw to just open the fucking door? Is that it? Fuck that!"

The hooker was getting pissed, the colour rising in her otherwise pale cheeks but no one would rise to her bullshit. Ava had a hunch the drug lord might have, had he not been nursing the rather deep wound to his pride and glaring at Mike as though if he concentrated enough, the rocker might burst into flames.

Wishful thinking.

"Don't you fucking get it? He's testing us! He's not just putting us here to die, so the door has to fucking open!" Amanda shouted, glaring venomously at Addison.

Mike couldn't help but agree with her logic. If this was a "test," they wouldn't just have been dumped here with no way out. Something had to happen…right?

"Maybe it's just _that_ key. Somethin' about the lock mechanism tripped the gun," Mike suggested, stepping toward the ruined couch that sat against the wall and ripping one of the cushions from its rotting frame. The fabric, weakened by age and the elements, all-but came apart in his hands. Nothing came of it- except the emaciated body of a rat that had curled into the stuffing and died. Mike kicked it aside, grateful for the steel-toed boots on his feet. He couldn't feel its weight against his foot, at least.

"Someone, help me with this. We've got to find another key, or somethin' to get that door open. Worst case scenario, we break the couch apart and use the frame to beat down one of the walls," he instructed, ripping another cushion away and searching beneath where it had been, seconds before.

Most of the others preoccupied themselves with searching along the walls for another hidden compartment of some kind, but Amanda half-shoved him aside, shredding through the remaining cushions and tossing them aside. The fact that they seemed to be on at least something of the same wavelength was reassuring to Mike; if she had survived, and he was thinking like she did, he could probably survive too.

Ava swallowed the bile that threatened to rise past her throat as she looked over the dead man dispassionately. Such a waste. A bullet to the brain was hardly the most dignified way to go, in her opinion. And so quickly. Amanda was right. They were being 'tested' for some godforsaken reason and she didn't want to think about the possible results, and the means, for passing.

She knelt on the rotten floorboard and dug her nails into the gap between two boards and attempting to yank it loose. It wouldn't budge. Gritting her teeth in irritation, Ava pulled harder, which accomplished nothing except for a new layer of grime getting under her fingernails.

She glanced over at Amanda, who was going through a decrepit looking chest, throwing torn pillows and moth-eaten blankets over her shoulder and she searched for…whatever it was they were searching for. A key? A map? A way-out?

"…_you all possess the combination to the safe…"_

Jonas was listening to the tape, rewinding it and listening to it again. Over and over, he did this and the sound of 'Jigsaw' calmly explaining their dire situation was beginning to get on her nerves. The serial killer's voice had an uncanny ability to make her shiver.

"…_think hard…the numbers are in the back of your mind. The clues to their order can be found…"_

The voice stopped as Jonas thumbed the stop button…and the heavy door began to creak. With a ticking, metallic sound, it began to open.


	3. Once You Are in Hell

**Chapter Three - Once You Are in Hell**

**Co-written with Renegade Vic**

**A/N: Thank you to teenageroadkill ****for reviewing! **

* * *

The ticking- and the low, groaning creak that followed- nearly caused Mike to jump out of his skin; he turned to face the unknown threat, fists raised instinctively, but allowed them to lower slightly as he saw the door release from its catch. Xavier was the first to act, seizing a pole that looked like it had once been the handle to a mop or a broom and using it to push the door open; Mike fell in close behind him, half-dreading and half-hoping for the possibility that the drug dealer would trip some equally-lethal trap as the one he had sprung earlier.

If only, if only.

The revolver on the door was calling to Mike. Ruger .357, it looked like- more than enough power to bring down any 'surprises' they ran into in the house. He tried to pry it from the clamp holding it in place, but to no avail- and as he checked the cylinder, he felt his heart sink a notch. Empty. It had only held the one shot.

"Hey, wait a minute. Where you going?" Jonas asked; Mike turned, thinking he was addressing him- but noticed that the older man had been looking toward Xavier, who was already at the end of the hallway.

"I'm gonna find an antidote, and I'm gonna get out of here."

_Fucking stupid. Oh well- your funeral…_

"What? Antidote? You been in the joint, you talked to the guards that run the chambers. You _know_ there ain't no antidote for this shit."

"Tokyo attacks? That's Sarin gas…and you _can_ treat it," Mike interjected. "Sodium hydroxide. Lye. If we can find a box of lye flakes, we can make our _own_ fuckin' antidote." Jonas didn't seem to hear him, however; neither did any of the others.

"Look at this. The doors are locked."

"Hear that?" He knocked on the wall. "It's wood. Plaster. It's not a fortress, it's a fuckin' house!"

"All I'm saying is, let's take our time and come up with a game plan." Jonas was _still_ thinking clearly. This was good. If they could keep everyone together, maybe there was a way out of this place.

"Well, you come up with a game plan, all right? I'm getting outta here." Xavier didn't seem to be in a mood to cooperate. Typical of the fucker.

Xavier vanished around the corner, no doubt in search of an antidote. Unlike him, the other stayed behind, clearly not stupid enough to assume that there wasn't gonna be a price for those fuckin' things. This was Jigsaw. There was no way they were getting outta here alive without sacrificing something first. And there was no way in hell it was gonna be Ava's life.

Sarin gas. She momentarily stopped to contemplate exactly _how_ Jigsaw had managed to get his hands on the stuff, when Addison began to cough, a rough, hacking cough that sent a chill along Ava's spine.

The gas was already starting to take affect…

Fuck.

She moved past the hooker, who was slumped against the wall and followed Xavier down the corridor. He still had the nail-studded bat in hand and was looking around corners in an effort to predict any 'deadly-dangerous' movement.

Her eyes roamed to the wall and she saw what looked like a metallic protrusion from a painting. Frowning, she looked closer and realized it was, in fact, a flashlight.

"Look!"

She yanked it off the wall, prayed to God it still had working batteries and clicked it on, wincing as the powerful light hit her full force in the face.

"Well…now we have a torch," she muttered, turning it off and walking into the 'foyer'.

It was easily as musty and rundown as the room they had woken up it, with only one difference. There was a set of white-painted double doors with a single, red word painted across them.

EXIT.

Ava heard coughing behind her and wasn't surprised that it was Addison. Weakling. She was already succumbing.

"Are you alright?" Jonas asked, a note of concern in his voice that mystified her. Why did he care? If she died, it was one less person to get the antidote and a not-so horrible loss of a rather agitating woman.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Addison snapped back, wiping her hand on her pant leg, leaving a dark stain. Blood.

Ava rubbed her own throat anxiously. How long was it before she started coughing up blood? She'd been vaccinated but somehow she didn't think tetanus shots were going to help her in here.

Addison's repeated coughing was more than a little alarming to Mike. Sure, she hated him now- and his feelings toward her were only marginally better, and even then only because he pitied her as much as he felt disgusted- but the fact that the Sarin gas was already getting to her did not bode well for any of them. How long had they been in the building- and how long had the gas been circulating? They had no way of knowing- and the thought that he could be next terrified Mike. He had heard the horror stories about the nerve gas- and it had been those stories that prompted him to look up homemade remedies for its deadly effects.

"Seriously, Ad. You're not holdin' up so great," Mike started, hoping to actually pick up a conversation with the only other "participant" he knew. "We've gotta find you an antidote." The icy glare she shot him abruptly ended all hopes he had for conversation.

"Whatever, Mike. Just stay the fuck away, all right? I'm not in the mood for your fuckin' 'white knight' routine." She stormed off toward the others, leaving a confused Mike in her wake.

"You're not gonna be able to help her, Mike. She has to help herself or she's never gonna learn." Amanda's voice, soft though it was, seemed able to cut through the musty silence of the house.

"Learn? You say that like you know her," he replied, turning to face the dark-haired girl behind him. She looked familiar, too- and not just from the newspaper he had seen a few months ago that had trumped up her "survivor story." Had she been at one of their gigs?

"I've…seen her around. And I can see why Jigsaw would want to test her. What's your deal, though?"

"Fucked if I know. I like cars, don't kill people, have friends and a dead-end job. Same as anyone else-" The sound of an impact, of wood splintering beneath the force of whatever was striking it, jarred Mike from his train of thought. Was Xavier throwing a bitch-fit? It wouldn't be surprising…but it _could_ be dangerous to the others' well-being.

Why did he care, anyway? He wasn't exactly fond of the two people he _did_ know, but the rest of them…did they matter? Really, did they? The tape said they had something in common…

Steeling himself for another confrontation, Mike stepped around the corner into the foyer. Xavier was pounding away on the door with his nail-bat, grunting and screaming with each swing.

"Well, we've established that the macho bullshit approach isn't opening the door…" Addison remarked, eyes fixed on Xavier in her most condescending look. Mike was no stranger to that particular expression- she'd thrown it his way more than once, just before the shit had _really_ hit the fan between them. "Any other suggestions?"

"Look who's talking. The only door _you_ know how to open-" Xavier gestured toward her- "is between your legs!"

Motherfucker. Hating someone was one thing- Mike had more than his share of enemies, some he had created himself intentionally- but taking a stab at them like that was just low. Xavier didn't seem to learn his lesson; Mike cracked his knuckles, the unspoken threat drowned out by Addison's retort.

"Why don't you shut the hell up?!"

Once again, the verbal assault began, as per fucking usual. It was like being back in high school to some degree, only there was an overwhelmingly large possibility that they might die.

…Huh. It really was high school.

As Addison and Xavier were seconds from either beating the shit out of each other or one forcibly raping the other, Jonas got between them

"Keep the bullshit to a fucking minimum, alright?" Ava snapped. "I thought we figured out that fighting isn't gonna get us anywhere, so can we _please_ just focus on getting out of this hellhole alive, okay?"

"Listen to the goth-broad, okay. Nobody takes shit from nobody, we've established that…"

"I'm not a goddamn goth, you fucking--"

The lights overhead flickered to life, casting an eerie yellow-green glow over the room and silencing Ava's furious retort.

Amanda padded heavily into the room, her face expressionless aside from this sense of resigned helplessness. Laura wasn't too far behind, and for some reason had decided to stick close to Ava as opposed to anyone else. The blonde stood next to her, nearly close enough for Ava to feel her breath on the back of her neck. Her upper lip curled. She didn't like having her personal space invaded.

"Did you find anything?" Daniel asked, the note of hope prominent in his voice. The kid had spirit at least, she reflected. Hopefully, he'd get outta here in one piece.

"No. Nothing." Laura said softly, as though whispering would spare her, or at least delay, the gas' deadly effects. She was already pale, her eyes beginning to become bloodshot.

"It'd help if we knew exactly what we were looking for," Ava muttered irritably. "Somehow, I don't think Jigsaw's gonna have a bunch of fuckin' gift-wrapped boxes with the antidote in them scattered around the house."

"Hey, keep the sarcastic crap to yourself," Jonas said sharply. "Right now, we don't need that shit. We need fuckin' answers and if you don't got 'em, don't say nothin' than don't need to be said."

Crossing her arms, Ava obeyed. As much as it pained her to admit it, he was right. But it was in her nature to be cynical and no amount of gas was going to rob her of that small aspect of her personality.

She glanced at Xavier almost out of paranoid habit, her eyes drifting over his bulging bicep and noticed a peculiar tattoo, the one that had drawn her attention earlier. A square-diamond with little symbols in each corner. Jonas followed her gaze and saw the tattoo.

"See that ink on your arm. That's Joliet. Right?"

Xavier turned, his stance immediately aggressive.

"Yeah. So?"

"I did a stretch there myself," he explained. Ava stared at him. Another jail-hopper? Fantastic.

"Proud of you," Xavier snapped back, his upper lip curled in a vicious sneer.

She considered making a comment, but refrained from it. She had decided to take Jonas' advice for the time being. No good getting mouthy and ending up with a nail-bat through her skull. Not high on her list of priorities at any rate.

"And you, what's your correctional facility of choice?" Their 'team leader' shot at Addison.

"What's your point?" The hooker looked unimpressed and in any other situation, Ava would've assumed that she was bored.

"My point is, you didn't get that way by teachin' grade school," he pointed out. "Right? That makes three of us that's done time." He looked around at the group. "I think we should be concentratin' on that tape, 'cos that tape said we had more in common than we know. I say, the three of us doin' stretches--"

"Hey!"

Laura. The blonde had moved away from Ava without her noticing and was now standing against the side of the stairs, her hands stretched out in front of her. "I found a door over here!" she exclaimed.

There was an air of distinct mistrust and reluctance at the prospect of going through that door, seeing as the last one they'd gone through had been to the room they'd all woken up in. Big risk.

Xavier moved first and Ava followed, mentally berating herself for going along with Jigsaw's sick fucking game.

"Xavier doesn't fuckin' get it," Mike muttered under his breath, just loudly enough that Ava could hear over the creaking steps that led into the basement. "We had a couple of 'run-ins' a while back…guy's as stubborn as a rock and about half as smart. You think fighting isn't gonna do shit, but we keep following him…we'll all end up dead as that poor greasy fuck back in that room we started out in." He wasn't sure if she was listening to what he had to say- or if she cared even if she _was_ listening- but it needed to be said. The less time they spent around Xavier, the better a chance at survival they all had.

Then again, leaving him free to roam of his own accord was just as bad an idea as sticking around him. Mike wouldn't have put it past him to wait for someone else to find an antidote- and then finish them off from behind and take the antidote for himself. Dirty, opportunistic fuck- and he was hoarding everything of use that they had come across thus far, with the exception of the tape player, which Jonas still held. Maybe they would find something in the basement that could help- a weapon, or some powdered lye.

Administering the homemade antidote would be a problem if they didn't find a syringe. It couldn't be ingested, but getting it into a vein was all-but impossible without a needle. They'd have to find at least one antidote, if nothing else.

The basement was dark, and just as foul-smelling as the rest of the house, if not worse. A dank, cloying odor filled the air, choking out the actual oxygen in place of the thick, disgusting musk of the basement. The humidity and mold were already playing hell on Mike's sinuses; even in the face of the Jigsaw test and his possible death by Sarin gas, he couldn't help but lament the sinus infection that would follow if he _did_ escape.

"Over there," Jonas murmured, pointing toward a shadowy mass in the center of the room. Xavier shone the flashlight toward it, revealing a cloaked figure, hunched over a rusty folding table, unmoving, even as the Latin drug lord circled around to their side. Jonas moved into position behind the figure, seized the cloak- and the figure's hair- jerked them back-

-and recoiled with a hasty "Oh, shit!" A mannequin- at least, its eyes looked like a mannequin, everything else was definitely realistic-looking- its face painted like some kind of grotesque, bloodstained clown, stared up at the room, a boot knife thrust into its chest.

"Fuckin' A…" Mike exclaimed, backing away toward the wall. The lights flared on abruptly. "Shit!" He whirled around, fists at the ready, looking for the sudden source of the light- and saw Daniel standing at the bottom of the stairs, his hand on a light switch. "Warn us next time, huh?"

Jonas echoed Mike's sentiments with a simple "Damn, kid…"

"Sorry." Daniel stepped past the switch, allowing the guy with the shaved head, Laura, and Amanda to pass him.

Come to think of it, they knew practically nothing about that guy. He had been slinking around in the back of the group, totally silent, even when the gun had gone off earlier. It was like he was watching them, waiting for an opportunity…but to do what? Was he the one responsible for everything? If he was, why was he in the house too? Had he already dosed himself with an antidote, just so he could watch everything that was happening? If that was the case, why were the video cameras scattered throughout the house? Who the fuck was Jigsaw, and why was he watching them?

There would be time to figure that out when…_if_…they got out.

"'Obi'? What the fuck is an Obi?" Xavier asked, holding up an envelope with the word written on it in black marker.

"AH-bi. It's my name." The creeper- from lack of a better word in Mike's mind- finally spoke. He was quiet- but not the sort of quiet that came from fear, like Laura or Daniel, or just soft-spoken like Amanda seemed to be when she wasn't screaming or having a nervous breakdown. It was more…menacing. That deadly calm that reminded Mike of 'that guy' in nearly every action and horror movie.

Double agent.

Sure, it might have just been his speech patterns, his voice- but he still sounded _way_ too calm for the situation at hand.

Obi. The hooded creeper finally had a name to put to the face. And what a face at that. His voice sent a cold shiver up Ava's spine that was becoming all too frequent. She didn't like it. She was usually a fairly strong-hearted woman and yet, here and now, she was shivering like she was hung naked in a freezer.

Fuck.

There was a tape player in the envelope marked with Obi's name, which Xavier ripped out. Snatching the tape-player from Jonas, and thus the only resource they really had left, he put the tape in place, shut the top and pressed 'Play', the all too familiar voice of Jigsaw once again permeating the silence.

"Hello, Obi," the voice rasped. "I want to play a game. For years, you have burned those around you with your lies…cons and deceits. Now you have a chance to…redeem yourself…for the games you've played with others, by playing one of mine."

Obi moved over to the long, chillingly coffin shaped metal box in the middle of the room, knocking on the side and moving along. Checking for weak spots or just checking that it was hollow? Ava didn't know or care. Her attention was completely fixed on the tape in the Latino drug dealer's hand.

"In the device in front of you, there are two antidotes for the poison coursing through your veins. One is my gift to you for helping me kidnap the others…"

Ava's eyes widened. What the fuck was that? He _helped_ him?

"The second is yours to donate. However, one will come with…a price. Remember, Obi, once you are in Hell…only the Devil can help you out."


	4. People Like Us

**Chapter Three - People Like Us**

**Co-written with Renegade Vic**

* * *

The tape stopped. The room was buzzing with intense suspicion and the metallic stench of fear and hatred began to fill the room. Ava felt her hands curling into fists at her sides as she glared at the bald-headed lurker. He'd helped Jigsaw. That fucker had pushed them a step closer to their doom…and here he stood, alive and relatively well. Somehow, it just…didn't seem right. Her teeth clenched and she momentarily contemplated snatching the knife from Xavier's hand and plunging it into the base of his throat. But there were antidotes involved. Two of them. There was a chance, an unbelievable slim chance, that she could survive this. Just as long as she got _one_ of them. She glanced around at her 'teammates' with a critical eye. Which one them would go for the 'complementary' antidote? The answer was a clear and simple one.

Xavier.

He'd kill for that antidote; he'd already proved that with Gus. And Ava had no doubt they would have more reason to fear him as the test progressed. More gas equals faster death and she was sure there was more gas being pumped into the house with every second that passed.

"What's that mean?" Jonas asked, breaking the heavily silence. "'Kidnapped the others'?"

"How would I know?" 'Obi' replied, his voice never raising even slightly, his tone perfectly cool and even.

"Because you put us here…"

Laura. She was leaning against a large, industrial shelf, a mixture of anger, horror and realization spreading across her face.

"The car…" she said slowly, in disbelief. "It was…" She didn't look up for a second, but it seemed as though she had remembered what it was she needed. "I knew, I knew him," she said hoarsely, raising her head to look Obi in the eye. "You were the last person I saw…before I woke up here…"

The others were turning to look at Obi, rage burning behind the eyes of the entire group.

"You did this!" Laura's voice had risen and she sounded braver, and indeed angrier, since she'd woken up. Ava didn't blame her for a second.

"Are you sure it's him?" Jonas asked her, glancing sideways at the 'traitor' within their midst. "You better be sure."

"…I'm sure."

"You would've done the same. I did what I had to do," Obi replied matter-of-factly. He was getting defensive- and with good reason. Jigsaw had just revealed his hand in a situation where there could be no winning.

"I'll give you a choice," Xavier hissed, pulling the knife from the "dead" mannequin and gesturing toward Obi with it. "You've got five seconds to get us out of here!" Mike was sure that he was meaning to be intimidating- but Xavier with a knife was barely any scarier than Xavier _without_ a knife. He was a fucking pushover, really- if anything, it seemed like he was nursing his pride after Mike had turned the tables on him earlier. Anyone he _could_ intimidate, he would.

Predatory piece of shit.

"I don't know the way out," Obi stated, eyeing the knife with a thoroughly bored expression. The sound of breaking glass followed his statement- and Laura began to menace him with a broken bottle.

"Bullshit! You put us in here, you can get us _out_ of here!" she shouted, the anger draining from her face as desperation crept back into her voice.

"No. I can't."

"Then you're a dead man," Xavier growled, advancing toward Obi, knife level with the accomplice's throat.

"So are you," he taunted, still as emotionless as before. Xavier lunged toward him- stopped short by Addison, who grabbed his arm.

"It does not gonna- wait! Wait, wait, wait! Listen to me!" Xavier stepped back, knife still clenched as tightly as before. "We got two antidotes at the back of that oven, we're wasting time here."

Addison to the fucking rescue. Mike could hardly help but roll his eyes at the events playing out before him. So this 'Obi' guy had been the one to drug them all and put them there? It didn't make sense. There were ten of them to start with- nine if he had put himself there of his own free will. If he was using chloroform to do it, there was no way someone wouldn't have woken up well before he had gotten everyone in place. Addison lived on the south side of town, last Mike had heard- and he lived in the apartments just off of central downtown. Between just the two of them, it was impossible.

Jigsaw was setting him up as a fall guy. Why wouldn't he?

"Hold the fuck on, guys. There's _nine_ of us, plus him. How's one guy gonna kidnap all nine of us and set this shit up?" Mike asked, pushing into the center of the group. "So he brought a few of us here, maybe. Yeah, I'm pissed as all hell, but for all we know, this Jigsaw put a fuckin' gun to his head, or his sister's head, or some fucked-up shit, and made him do it. You wanna blame someone, blame _him!_" He pointed toward the camera, sitting in plain sight on one of the support columns.

"You're defending him?!" Laura shouted, her temper from moments before returning in force. "He kidnapped me in the middle of the night!"

"Did you not hear me right, or somethin'? Did you not hear that tape? He _helped_ Jigsaw, he's not the one who did this!"

"We don't even know what's in those syringes. You willing to stick yourself in the arm to find out?" Jonas asked.

"Yeah," Mike and Addison both replied simultaneously.

"Okay, wait- so who gets them? I mean, there's two…" Daniel interjected. "So which two people get the antidote?"

"We'll work that out later!" Xavier snarled, his hand still clenched around the blade of the knife. He was gonna kill the creeper. He was gonna slit his fucking throat. Ava didn't think that anyone actually cared at this point, despite what Mike had said. The fact of the matter was that he had helped. Helped a madman. A murderer. A killer than was going to kill them all.

With a crash, Laura fell to the ground behind them, knocking over a wooden table, a hand over her mouth. She was weaker than the rest of the group and she was dying faster. Given an hour at most, maybe less, and she'd be dead. They'd all be dead.

"Right now, you're goin' in there." Xavier wasn't in any mood, or state, to take no for an answer. That much was obvious. More so by the sudden movement, where he seized the collar of Obi's jacket and held the knife blade against his throat. "Or I'll kill you where you stand!"

Obi barely batted an eyelash, his face totally devoid of anything that Xavier would have usually seen, or expected, in the people he threatened at knifepoint. And judging by the angle of the blade and the expert grip on the handle, it wasn't the first time he'd done it either.

Reaching up, the creeper pressed the knife blade deeper into his skin…and moved it slowly across his own throat. Xavier inhaled in shock as blood welled up from the shallow wound. Ava was intrigued. That was a risk, a big risk. He could've hit something vital. But he seemed fine. Calm. As the knife had cut him, he'd barely twitched at all.

"If you're gonna threaten me with a knife," he said softly, "you may as well cut me a little."

A tense quiet filled the room and Ava found herself wondering if Xavier was just gonna leap at him and cut his throa--

The heavy, metallic collision of an empty barrel hitting the floor broke the silence and Ava jumped.

"Motherfucker!" she hissed under her breath, her body feeling almost renewed by the sudden jumpstart of adrenaline.

"I guess I'm going in there to get those needles," Obi said, turning toward the ominous looking device. "But I get one," he finished sharply, looking at Xavier. The drug lord visibly shrank back a few inches when the creeper looked at him with those vacant, cold eyes. A monster's eyes.

_Psycho._

He blinked once and bent down to the opening. He looked inside it momentarily, before sliding inside it, head-first. Ava moved back to where Laura lay, now leaning on Amanda and crouched down next to them, watching Obi practically disappear inside the device.

"You think he'll pass?" Ava asked under her breath, glancing at Amanda. The other woman merely looked at her for a long moment, as if trying to remember something.

"I don't know. If he has the will…he'll survive. If not…"

She didn't need to say anymore because at that moment, Ava realized what the device that Obi had just crawled into was.

It was a furnace.

Oh, fuck. The antidotes!

Something about the large metal box seemed familiar to Mike, but he wasn't sure what, exactly. He had seen something similar to it in an abandoned building he, Mira, and Dave had been checking out for the hell of it a few months ago- but what was it? There didn't seem to be anything significant about it, other than-

Gas valves. Gas valves along the side. It was a crematory oven, and Obi had just crawled _into_ the fucking thing! If there was something in there that would set it off, he'd be cooked alive in seconds- him _and_ the antidotes he had gone in to grab.

"Wait! Don't touch anything!" Mike shouted, banging on the side of the device desperately. "Don't you fuckin' realize what you're _in_, man? It's a goddammed furnace!"

Judging by the shock apparent on the others' faces, they had just now realized it as well.

"Obi- listen, bub. Look around in there, see if there's a…a switch, or a cable, or a tripwire, or somethin' you might set off. This thing won't fuck around if you set it off, you hear me?" Mike began to examine the trap- if, indeed, it _was_ a trap- desperately looking for anything out of the ordinary.

There. On the door. Some kind of wire, running deeper into the device. That didn't exactly seem standard.

"Watch in there, man. Tell me if this does somethin'." Mike tugged on the cable with one finger, pulling what little slack it offered and releasing it.

"You're fucking with my test," Obi replied, agitation creeping into his voice. "So now that you've made it _our_ test…" he crawled out of the furnace, a syringe held tightly in his fist. "Your turn to get the second one."

Was he serious? There had to be something about that second syringe, something that had set Obi off collecting it as well. Was it connected to that cable? What happened if he pulled on it, and the door closed?

"Fine. But I decide who gets the second one," Mike growled, crawling into the soot-blackened furnace, thankful yet again that Jigsaw had at least left him his hair tie. Crawling on his own hair was not a pleasant experience- he had learned that the hard way, working in the garage on Dave's Mazda.

There it was. The second syringe, hooked onto a chain that dangled from the ceiling. Too simple.

_Too simple means it's a trap. Just like the key in the door._

The most obvious solution was to simply pull it off the chain- but something told Mike that would be an infinitely _bad_ idea. He reached up, felt along the syringe- and found that it was tied to the chain by some kind of cord.

"Hey Xavier, I need that knife. Toss it in," Mike called, banging on the side of the furnace in case the drug lord hadn't heard him. Hopefully, he would be in a giving enough mood to make a simple donation…

Xavier looked at the oven, then at the knife and then at the oven again, apparently going over his options in his mind. Knife…or antidote? That was the choice, the question that now ran freely through the drug lord's mind. Protection over survival. Which would he choose?

To her surprise, Ava found herself hoping that he did chuck the knife to Mike, as opposed to just letting Obi finish his test. What if Jigsaw got pissed because it wasn't just Obi in the furnace anymore, and just set it off on the idiot rocker, who would then have absolutely no way of getting out. He'd be Roast-Mike within a minute! And she was no Hannibal Lecter.

Shifting, Ava moved to get to her feet and Amanda's hand shot out and clenched firmly over her bicep.

"Don't. There's already enough of them fuckin' with this," she muttered quietly, her grip surprisingly strong for someone who was meant to be progressively having their organs deteriorate within their body. "Don't get in the way now."

"Why do you care what happens to them?" Ava snapped. "Or me?"

"I never said I did," Amanda replied. "You wanna go help, fine. Go help. Just don't come to me and say I didn't warn you."

Her teeth once again sinking into her bottom lip, Ava realized it was probably a good idea to go with what the spiky-haired woman said. After all, who knew how to beat a game like someone who'd played before and won?

Ava hadn't played. Amanda had. Her judgment won out.

Knife in hand, the Latino drug lord peered into the furnace.

"I give you the knife…when you get the other antidote, you give it to me, you got that?"

"Actually," Obi said. "This is still my test. I think I get to decide who gets the other antidote."

"Fuck you, man," Xavier snapped, bending down and throwing the knife into the oven, mindless of the damage the knife might cause if it hit Mike or just fell into the flame pits below the grill, which were for the moment, thankfully dormant. "Use the fuckin' knife then."

"Fuck, man!" Mike hissed, clutching at his now-bleeding hand. Xavier had thrown the knife a little too well- and it had left a long, shallow gash in the palm of his hand. "You'll get the knife back, just chill the fuck out!" Using his off-hand, Mike cut away the cord binding the syringe to the chain with a sawing motion.

Then the tip of the knife caught in the chain, pulling it down.

"Aw, SHIT!" Mike shouted, glancing around the inside of the furnace desperately for another way out. There was a window of some kind at the back, but he doubted he'd be able to fit through it without dislocating something. The front-

-was covered in flames. They were still low, and confined to the very front of the furnace, but that probably wouldn't last long.

"Gas valves! Fuckin' gas valves on the outside! Turn 'em off! TURN THEM OFF!" he bellowed, pounding on the metal sides of the furnace frantically. If someone didn't move fast, he was done for. And of all the ways to go, it had to be the single most agonizing and terrifying way he could think of. He had been having nightmares about being burned alive- mostly due to fiery car crashes that left him unconscious as he roasted- lately, but now…

Fuck that shit. There had to be a way out from the inside. What did the tape say? "Once you're in Hell…" what was the last part? Something in here was the key to his survival. He cast around frantically, looking for anything that might relate to the test-

-and saw another valve, located in the corner just inside the grate, with a stylized caricature of a devil painted next to it. The word "Twist" was written on the metal.

That was it. He'd have to turn it off from there.

And he'd have to move _fast_ if he didn't want to burn alive.

"Fuck this shit…FUCK THIS SHIT! I'M NOT DYIN' LIKE THIS!" He shifted to a low squat and shuffled forward as quickly as he could, wincing in pain as the flames shot up and seared his legs. He had to turn the valve. Had to shut it off, or DIE like this. More burning, and nothing he could do about it.

The metal was already hot to the touch, but Mike grasped it tightly, twisting it shut with a noise that was half predatory challenge, half blinding shriek of pain. The flames sputtered for a moment…then died.

He had survived. He'd burned his hands and legs…but he was alive. The syringe was…

Fuck. Where was it? Had he dropped it when the flames ignited, or did he bring it with him? It had to be in the back, still. It just had to. He crawled back toward the back, face low to the metal grating as he searched for the precious needle.

There it was. Still intact.

"I've got the needle! Now get me the fuck outta here!"

Ava watched as Obi and Xavier 'helped' the partially toasted Mike out of the furnace, her eyebrows furrowed in mild concern.

"He's alive," she muttered. "He did some other poor fucker's test for him and he survived."

She glanced over at Amanda, who was running her fingers through Laura's hair in an attempt to calm her.

"You reckon this clears him in Jigsaw's book?"

The other woman barely even glanced in her direction, utterly focused on the task at hand.

"He survived. But he didn't get an antidote for himself. He survived that…but he's probably got his own test."

"You know an awful lot about this, don't you?" Ava muttered.

"I said I played before," Amanda snapped back. "I know what kind of this Jigsaw does. He wants us to survive. I promise."

With a smirk, Ava ran a hand through her hair, a few strands catching between her fingers.

"Promise, huh? I'll hold you to that if I don't die."

Ava dropped her forehead into her knees, wishing momentarily that she could just sleep and just forget everything that had happened tonight had happened at all. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could sleep through the slow death she was in for as the Sarin gas ate at her body and killed her. Like carbon monoxide poisoning from exhaust fumes. You pass out first and then it kills you. She could live with that.

Amanda's hand bit into her shoulder.

"Don't fall asleep," she murmured. "You won't wake up."

"And this is a bad thing, Amanda?" Ava queried, raising an eyebrow. "Dying in your sleep is a gift for people like me."

"People like you meaning what?"

Ava gestured to the group gathered around the furnace.

"You see them? A couple of fuckin' jail-hoppers, a hooker and a kid. Plus some rundown, street racing, adrenaline junkie. Common, garden-variety thugs, am I right?" She licked her lips. "I'm not like them. And quite frankly, I don't think you are either."

Even though she wasn't looking at her, Ava could tell that Amanda had stiffened and turned pale.

"You're the only Jigsaw survivor ever found, Amanda," she murmured. "Somehow, I don't think he would've let you go so easily."

In all her years working in the hospital scene, Ava had seen a huge amount of people come and go through the swinging glass doors. And she'd seen enough to know what happens when a person witnesses a near-death experience. Admittedly, not quite the same when it came to _that_ psychopath, but the basis was fairly similar. There was no way in hell Amanda wasn't somehow involved. They would have never found that tape without her and the door might never have opened if they didn't. Too many things were being influenced by her presence. It didn't make sense. What was she hiding?


	5. Don't Panic

**Chapter Five - Don't Panic**

**Co-written with Renegade Vic**

**A/N: Thanks again to **teenageroadkill** for reviewing the last chapter! We love you! :) **

* * *

Mike winced as his arm, covered in first-degree burns, brushed against the still-hot mouth of the furnace. Xavier was definitely not wasting any time in getting him out- in getting the _antidote_ out.

If he thought this one was his ticket out of here, though, he was in for a surprise. There was no way in hell Mike was giving up the syringe to that psychopath- and if he had to fight him off again, well…that was an outcome that didn't look so bad after last time.

"Gimme the needle," Xavier demanded, "and my knife back. You had your fun."

He wasn't serious.

It was all Mike could do not to burst into laughter at Xavier's ridiculous demands. He honestly thought he was in a position to lay claim to an antidote? What had he done to earn it?

"Fuck off," Mike spat, his fist clenching around both the syringe and the knife instinctively. "What did you do to earn it? I didn't see you climbin' in there and getting roasted!" His grip shifted on the knife, to the combat stance Dave had shown him nearly a year ago after K2K thugs had tried to jump them in an alley after a race.

"I'm gonna say this one more time. Give. Me. The needle." Xavier took a step toward Mike, taking full advantage of his height to try and intimidate the shorter man.

It wasn't working. Mike simply chuckled, glancing up at Xavier contemptuously.

"Remember what happened last time you tried to push me around? Remember that knife you 'let me borrow'?" Mike launched into a sweep-kick, but Xavier leapt back and lunged at him, sending both sprawling in a disorganized heap and knocking both needle and knife from Mike's hands.

_Attack dog learned a new trick._

He'd still made a simple, amateurish mistake in trying to pin Mike- two mistakes, actually. He had focused most of his attention into stopping his arms…and had failed to think about his own positioning above Mike. A swift knee to the groin, however, drove the mistake home better than any amount of instruction could have- and as Xavier rolled to the side, groaning in pain, Mike stood and dusted himself off before grabbing the knife that had slipped from his hand.

The needle was nowhere to be seen.

Obi stood a metre or so away, his eyebrows furrowed in something that was definitely _not_ concern and his lips set into a hard line.

And the syringe filled with the precious antidote was held loosely in his hand, practically dangling between his thumb and forefinger.

There was deadly quiet, all eyes on the needle and silent voices roared with hunger for it. Ava was sure she was salivating.

It was there. The thing she needed to survive was _right there _in that motherfucker's hand. And so loose…it'd only take a moment…

Slowly, Obi turned to the blonde woman sobbing at the back of the room, something akin to pity, or guilt, written across his face.

He took three steps toward her, stopping when he was within arm's reach of her. For a second, Ava was certain he was going to hit her.

Obi knelt down so he was level with Laura…and held out his hand. Blinking in astonishment, Laura looked at Obi, and then at his outstretched hand. It was the hand that had held the antidote syringe…and he was giving it to her.

"It's my fault that you're here," Obi murmured. "You're not gonna survive this house unless you take that. Trust me."

He tilted her chin up with a finger, Laura too shocked to fight him off.

"You'll die otherwise."

And then he moved away like nothing had happened, retreating to the shadows. Ava looked from the needle to Laura, biting her lip.

What now?

Laura clenched her fist around the needle, looked up at Obi through her hair and moved the needle to the inside of her elbow.

"Thank you…" she whispered, sliding it into her skin and depressing the plunger.

_He'd saved her._

Ava was in a state of wonderment. The woman that had more or less accused him of kidnapping them all, true or not, had been given the antidote. No fight. No quarrel.

Nothing.

He had willingly saved the life of another…

She glanced sideways at Amanda, who had her head down and appeared to be in some kind of quiet meditation. From here, Ava could almost read her thoughts.

_He was learning…_

Mike stood, nearly transfixed as he watched the scene unfold before him. Who was this guy, this 'Obi,' really, to decide what happened with the antidote he had earned? The one he had almost _died_ for?

But who was _he_ to say Laura didn't need the help? She had been looking weak, already- more so than the others. It made sense- if they were all going to survive, they'd have to work together like this.

Sacrifices would have to be made, sometimes. And people were going to be pissed about that- Xavier in particular.

He could sweat it out. Bastard.

"Hey." Mike's hand found its way to Obi's shoulder and gripped firmly. Not forcefully enough to be a threat, but more than enough to guarantee he'd stay put. "Warn me next time, that's all I'm askin'. I could've been dead."

"No. You think too fast. You don't panic," Obi replied, shrugging out of Mike's grasp and pushing past the others on the stairwell as he left the basement hastily.

_Yeah._

Panic was what would get people killed. If they couldn't stick it out as a group, the stragglers would get picked off by the gas- or by the traps.

Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing…if Xavier got fed up with it and left.

Maybe…

Mike turned his attention to the rest of the group, pacing amongst them in the shocked silence that seemed to have fallen over the house.

Addison, stand-offish and doing her best not to panic. Laura, finally starting to calm down a little- but still very much afraid. Daniel, lurking. Jonas, on edge and looking like a deer in the headlights. Xavier, nursing his pride with death-glares. Ava, confused, but no longer as hostile as she seemed to be before. Amanda, silent. Distant.

They had something in common, now. They had both played one of Jigsaw's "games," and come out alive. What else did she know? There had to be _something_…

Ava watched Obi disappear up the stairs, her mind in a whirl of confusion and fear. Two had been cured. There were only a few antidotes left now, and she had her doubts that Xavier was going to allow himself to miss out on yet another one. By intimidation or by actually going through his own test, she wasn't quite sure. And she was definitely in no rush to find out.

Glancing around at the group, Ava swallowed heavily, realizing her throat was drier than she first thought. But she was positive it was not due to a lack of water.

"Come on," she murmured, looking over at Laura and Amanda. "We should get out of here. It fucking reeks of gas."

Like a sleep-walker, she ascended the stairs, her footsteps sounding heavier than they had when she'd walked down them for the first time.

A series of quick steps behind her announced Laura's presence. She was following her. Or Obi.

"We've got a chance now, don't we?" she asked, her voice strained with desperation. Ava glanced over her shoulder at the blonde, an eyebrow raised. She'd been cured. What did she care about the rest?

"Believe whatever the fuck you want to believe," Ava muttered in return, pushing open the basement door.

"We're all gonna die one day, anyway."

Defeat. Ava hated that word and its corresponding emotion with a passion, but it was all she was feeling right now. She was tired, so goddamn tired it was killing her. Like the nerve gas was.

Slumping against the nearest wall, Ava slid down it to the floor, her eyes half-closed.

"Half dead already," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "Fuck."

"You look cold. Here." Mike slipped his jacket from his shoulders, setting it on the warped step just below where Amanda sat. The sudden sound seemed to jerk her from her reverie, and she turned to him, her face an unreadable mask.

"So you think that, because you passed this test…one that wasn't yours, we've got something in common?" Her question was harsh, her tone even more so.

"No, I…fuck. I guess. What's it matter if I 'pass my test' or help someone else? If it'll get me and everyone else out of here-"

"You don't get it, do you? He didn't earn it. He…didn't…earn it!"

Was she on the edge of another breakdown? If she was, being trapped in the furnace with Xavier was probably a safer state of being than sitting this close to her- but it didn't matter. He had to know what she knew.

"All right, all right. Doesn't mean someone has to die, though. There were two needles in there, and for all we know, there might only have been eight anywhere else. That might've been someone's only chance…you get what I'm saying?"

"No, Mike…you're the one who _still_ doesn't get it. He wouldn't just…" Amanda's voice broke, and when she spoke again, it was barely a whisper. "Just take someone's chance away."

She said this like she understood this…psycho, this "Jigsaw." Maybe her life really _had_ been fucked up, back before her first "test"- who knew? Maybe she was putting this sick fuck on a pedestal because whatever he'd done had been a wake-up call for her.

"No. I guess not," Mike sighed. "But if we can all get outta here…why not? Not like most of us deserve to die for whatever we did…I mean, I don't make a habit out of hurting people who didn't make the first move, and last I checked Addison's not some fuckin' mass murderer…hell, you don't seem like you belong here either."

"You'd be surprised what I've done," she replied, picking up the well-abused leather jacket and sliding into it. It had fit Mike like a glove, but was a little loose on Amanda's tiny frame. "But…thanks. I think you get it after all."

Without another word, Amanda climbed the stairs into the rest of the house, followed closely by Daniel and Jonas, and after a moment's hesitation and another venomous glare, Xavier. Addison filed in a few paces behind him, but another coughing fit rooted her to the spot just behind Mike.

"Fuckin' hell, Ad. You need the antidote," Mike murmured, swinging around into a standing position and guiding her up the stairs.

There wasn't any hiding it anymore. She was coughing up blood- her hand was covered in it, almost black in the wan light of the basement stairwell, staining her lips as well as her hands.

She needed help- and soon.

Ava's eyes flickered as she fought to remain conscious. There was no fucking way she was gonna allow herself to succumb to the desperate need to sleep. The desperate need to die…

_No!_

Shaking herself out of the depressing downward spiral, Ava struggled to her feet, holding the wall for support. Her knees felt weak. She could barely stand…

In a few moments, she'd be unable to stand at all. Only lie down and accept the inevitable truth that she was going to die in this house. After everything she had done in her life, she was going to die this way. After all she'd done to cover up--

"Hey, are you okay?"

Someone was holding her arm. She couldn't see who. She didn't care.

"Stupid fucking question, isn't it?" she snapped, pulling away from them and nearly falling over in the process.

Fuck it all!

"Fucking hell, Ava. Actin' like this isn't helping you."

Mike. Dammit.

Glaring at the rocker, Ava's upper lip curled in distaste.

"And what the fuck would you know about helping, huh? Maybe I've just accepted the fucking inevitable."

She slumped, looking at the others from under her fringe. Two cured, a bitch, a psycho, a 'leader', a kid, a corpse and…Mike. Where did that leave her?

"I'm so fucking…tired," she rasped, rubbing at her throat.

"I know. But we've gotta keep moving. Gotta keep the blood flowing. Where there's life, there's hope, and all that bullshit, right?"

Honestly, he wasn't sure just how badly Ava _was_ doing, whether she was succumbing to the gas faster than the others- or if she was some kind of hypochondriac. Either way, she wasn't doing too great, either.

None of them were, with the exceptions of Obi and Laura- and they still looked about fit to pass out, too. What if the antidote was a lie? What if Jonas was right, or they'd inhaled too much of it? Maybe it _wasn't_ Sarin gas, but some completely unrelated nerve agent that would fuck _all_ of their worlds up at a moment's notice?

But Amanda seemed to think they could live. Maybe. She had done this before. If only she'd actually _talk_ about it…

"Really, Ava, I mean it. We're gonna get out of here. All of us. Gonna figure this thing out, and get everyone out of here. You think I'm fuckin' around, that I don't get what's going on, well, I do. And I've seen shit where the mindset made the whole fuckin' game change. That's _life_ for me. Can't die if you don't roll over and accept it-" Mike turned his attention to the others, clustered around the landing leading to the second floor. "And I'm not lettin' _any_ of you accept just rollin' over and dying. You hear me? We're gettin' the fuck _out_ of this place."

"Not if no one knows where we are," Jonas replied, an eerie note of solemnity creeping into his voice. Was it resolve or resignation? It was hard to tell.

"You think that matters? Someone's gonna notice _one_ of us went missing. There's fuckin' ten of us! Hell, Dave and Mira probably got the whole crew together by now. I bet they're picking every back-alley shortcut apart."

"Yeah…and my dad's probably got half the city looking for me, just so he can kick my ass for disappearing," Daniel chimed in.

"Sounds like quite a guy," Mike quipped.

"Yeah, he's a…he's a real hardass."

_Why_ did his face look familiar?

As much as it might have pissed her off, Ava had to admit that Mike was right. Someone would have noticed they were missing by now, or at least they would have noticed _she_ was missing. Ava wasn't the type to disappear without telling someone where she was. She'd learned through experience that it was always the right way to go, for more than one occasion. Even if she didn't have that many friends, _someone_ would have realized she was missing. But then, Ava didn't know how long she had been missing. An hour? Two? Three, maybe? Those weren't usually the time frames that made people panic about where another person might be.

Fuck.

Knowing the idiots she associated with, they probably wouldn't even know where to _start_ looking, if they chose to at all.

Pushing her fringe out of her eyes, she glared at the kid. Fuck, his face was pissing her off, and not in the ways it usually would. She'd seen it somewhere before…but for the life of her, she couldn't place where.

"Your dad," she drawled. "Real hard-ass, huh? What's his deal, anyway?"

"I dunno," the kid replied, glancing over at her momentarily and dropping his eyes. "Just got a…a problem, I guess."

Ava's eyebrows rose.

"A problem. Huh…family," she hacked heavily into her hand, coughs racking her entire body as she covered her mouth with her hand, which in retrospect accomplished nothing.

Wet. Liquid.

Red.

Blood had stained Ava's palm crimson, almost black in the dim light.

"Jesus…" she muttered, wiping her hand on her sleeve and straightening to the best of her ability.

"So, what's the plan?" Addison snapped. "Stand around and wait for the fuckin' syringes to just drop from the ceiling, or what?"

"Seeing how fuckin' messed up this Jigsaw guy is, I wouldn't put it past him," Jonas said, making a mild attempt at humour to lighten the situation. Seemed rather inappropriate, but Ava was sure it was appreciated. Maybe. The glare Amanda sent the black man was quite an obvious indicator of her opinion.

"I think we need to start lookin' around," Mike spoke up. "Ain't gonna find those syringes just hangin' around here."

"We have no fucking idea how big this place is," Ava groaned, staring up at the ceiling. "And we've only got, what, forty-five minutes to go before we're meant to keel over and die?"

"You love lookin' on the bright side, dontcha?" Jonas muttered, shaking his head sarcastically.

Ava scowled.

"I'm a realist, asshole. Sorry if I can't see any goddamn _bright side!_"

"Yeah, whatever. Bright side or not, I ain't dying here. You guys get to checkin' around down here, I'm gonna look upstairs," Jonas shot back, already on his way up the creaking stairwell.

"Well, since you fucks _took_ mine, I'm going with him," Xavier growled, shoving past Laura and Daniel and overtaking Jonas a moment later.

"Fuckin' psycho…" Mike muttered under his breath, as soon as the drug dealer was out of earshot. "I don't care what the fuck he says, that guy is fucking crazy. I've seen him around…heard the stories. Kinda hard not to when he's my rival's personal fuckin' dealer…"

"So you two are connected, huh?" The voice was female, but a wave of spasms doubled Mike over before he could identify the speaker- or respond.

It was starting.

Fuck.


	6. Needle in a Haystack

**Chapter Six - Needle in a Haystack**

**Co-written with Renegade Vic **

* * *

The coughs followed the spasming- deep, heavy coughs that punished Mike's diaphragm and lungs relentlessly. A familiar metallic taste filled his mouth, the force of his coughs splashing blood across the dusty floor in dark patches.

"Yeah…guess you could say that…" Mike finally managed to force out, wiping the blood from his lips on the back of his hand.

"I've seen you before, too." Before he had the chance to process where the voice was coming from- or whose it was- Amanda had pulled him to his feet and wedged herself beneath his arm to keep him upright.

"It was a long time ago." She steered him toward the collapsing sofa near the wall, allowing Mike to fall back onto the moth-eaten dust cover. His head rolled back over the backing, his eyes fixing on a wooden handle.

Shovel.

What was it doing here? It was so out of place…

Mike rolled onto his stomach, grasping the shovel's rough handle and pulling it to himself.

"Fuck me running, guys. This shit isn't fuckin' around…" He pushed himself to a standing position, leaning on the shovel for support. "We've…we've gotta get out of here. Get the antidotes and get the fuck out…"

"Leave those two to find their own door," Laura murmured. "They'll come back…"

She was sitting almost as Obi's feet, who was leaning against the wall behind him. For a moment, Ava was reminded of a servant sitting at the feet of her master. Was that what the blonde thought Obi was? Admittedly, he _had_ saved her life, but it still seemed redundant.

It was there that Ava made the decision that any antidote that she injected into her veins was going to be from _her_ test, and not some pity-donation. She didn't need any help getting what she needed to survive in this fucking place.

And they had a weapon now. Well, _Mike_ had a weapon, but it was better than no weapon at all.

"Maybe we should wait for those guys to come back," Daniel muttered, looking around at the others. "And then start looking."

"And if they get to an antidote first?" Addison looked mutinous at the thought, a red flush creeping up her pallid neck.

"That won't make a difference," Ava said quietly, the cogs turning in her brain. "That isn't how Jigsaw wants it." She sighed heavily, more in annoyance than defeat this time. "He wants us to work together, we've figured that much out. If those two find a 'test', they'll have to work together to get it and I think we all know that Xavier isn't the 'teamwork' type."

"She makes a fair point…" Obi murmured. "Our 'fearless leader' will probably come back to show us anything they find." He chuckled. "He's at least got a moral backbone."

There was a long pause.

"So…" Daniel began cautiously. "We wait?"

"Yeah, kid," Ava nodded at him. "We wait and die a little more before we make our next move."

"Why just wait? There's still somethin' we don't know about all this…" Mike mused, hefting the shovel over his shoulder and taking an unsteady step toward the center of the room. The gas was kicking in worse than he'd anticipated…but he would master it. He had to. The others needed him to. If they were left to Xavier's "mercy," they'd all be dead. He'd stop looking for antidotes as soon as he found his own.

"Now, I get we've all probably got shit we don't wanna talk about, but the way I see it…this Jigsaw guy, he _knows_ all our fuckin' secrets. We can't hide from him, might as well not hide from each other. It's not like any of our shit _doesn't_ stink…and like we just saw, this guy likes building shit that can kill you based on what he _knows_ about you. Might just save a life, if we put it all out on the table." A long breath followed.  
"I'll start this thing off. I'm a street racer. Bit of an adrenaline junkie. Feels like bein' alive, sideswiping death at a hundred and twenty. Been in prison for a few years…'convicted' of murder. Never saw the fucker in my life, and _no_, it's not bullshit, I was framed."

Take it or leave it. Addison would probably believe him- she knew him well enough to know he wouldn't have killed anyone…well, anyone who wasn't Jericho or Xavier. Hopefully, the others would get it too.

Mike hated death. Sure, it was natural. He knew that. It still didn't change the fact that it fucked things up. Took people away before their time really came.

"Fuck if I know why, though. Guess I pissed off a few too many beat cops. It's what the precinct gets for havin' archaic squad cars…if they wanted to catch me, they'd upgrade!"

"Cops don't get upgrades until they catch the bad guys, Mike," Ava smirked, brushing her hair behind her ears. She had no intention of participating in this little…Pow-Wow. The less people knew about what she'd done, and what Jigsaw had put her in this place for, the better. And besides, it was for their benefit too.

Thankfully, Addison chose to speak first, throwing her arms out in exasperation.

"The fuck d'ya want me to say? I'm a fuckin' hooker and an addict."

"And that wasn't obvious at all," Ava shot at her.

Addison glared, but didn't respond, not to her insult anyway.

"I got…busted, few years back now. Served three months." She chuckled bitterly. "Been fuckin' careful ever since."

"So, we've got a streetwalker and an adrenaline junkie." Daniel was running a hand through his hair, the look on his face nothing less that feverish. "I haven't…been in jail or anything. Bit in trouble a few times, y'know?"

"Too bent for school, too straight for prison," Obi muttered.

"What about you?" The kid directed his question at Amanda. "You said…you said you'd played before. Why're you back here?"

Amanda regarded him carefully for a long moment, eyes glittering. Her gaze lowered to the bandages around her wrists.

"I wasn't being very good to myself," she murmured, a thumb rubbing over the white material. "That's why."

_Cutter…_

Ava frowned at the other woman as she fell silent. She had nothing more to say.

"What about you?"

The kid was looking at her now and Ava reacted instinctively, her guard crashing into place.

"What about me?" she growled.

"Why're you here?"

"I know the fucking question…and believe me, you're better off not knowing what I did, kid."

"So we know we're not all criminals, or at least there's a pretty fuckin' huge gap in who Jigsaw's going after if that's the deal," Mike cut in, as much on Daniel's behalf as Ava's. He had no intention of seeing her pissed off- she was more than a little scary in a _normal_ mood. It wouldn't do anyone any good to get at one another's throats.

"Then what _is_ it, 'fearless leader'?" Addison snapped. "This isn't getting us anywhere except fucking pissed off. It's _stupid_, Mike. You wanna play detective? Go find more-"

"We found a door. C'mon." Jonas' sudden return seemed to catch them all by surprise; Mike's grip on the shovel shifted slightly, as if to use it as a weapon- but relaxed a hair's breadth when he caught sight of the older man. Wordlessly, he joined the others as they filed up the stairs, following closely behind their "guide."

"It's the only one without a lock, but we can't get it open," Jonas explained, stopping at the end of a long corridor and gesturing to where Xavier stood, trying to force the door open.

Maybe they really weren't meant to get in? What if it was another death-rig, like the door to the room they had started in? Jigsaw didn't seem to like it when people did things they weren't supposed to…and if the door was staying this stubbornly closed, it was a good bet that they were being told not to go in.

At least if something happened, it would be Xavier's neck on the line, and no one else's. The thought that they could potentially be rid of the man who had been nothing but a thorn in everyone's side brought cold comfort to Mike.

_Wouldn't have to worry about him goin' apeshit, at least…_

It was a close save.

Thanks to Mike, no less, she wouldn't need to divulge her reason to the rest of the group, whether it was intentional or not. She wouldn't tell them, it was better that way.

A loud _THUMP_ threw her from her contemplation as Xavier threw himself against the door, with no results. The idiot was going to hurt himself if he kept it up, not that this was an unwelcome idea. The less chance that the drug-dealer was in good nick, the better chance the rest of them had to survive.

"It looks like it's stuck on something-" Addison tried to get in to 'help' open the door, only to be shoved aside by the irate Latino.

"Hey! Take it easy!"

"Just back off, alright?" he snapped back at her, pushing against the door-and suddenly doubling over as harsh coughs racked his body. Ava watched as he raised the hand that had been covering his mouth to eye level and even she could see that it was splattered with blood.

Apparently, the All-Immune Xavier was no longer impervious to the gas that was slowly killing them all.

A look passed over Addison's face as she looked at Xavier, so fleeting that Ava almost missed it.

Sympathy. Pity.

She was _sorry_ for the lumbering muscle-head? After all the shit he'd put the group through, she _pitied_ him?

_Stupid fucking streetwalker,_ Ava thought, shaking her head. _She'll be dead in ten minutes, tops._

The sight of the blood on his hands seemed to give Xavier a boost of strength…or panic.

"If it's stuck, it's a trap," Amanda said, leaning against the opposite wall and rubbing the sleeve of the leather jacket she wore.

"Maybe this whole house is a trap!" Xavier shot back.

"Obviously he didn't want us getting in this room without a fight," Ava mused.

With yet another full-on body slam against the door, it opened a crack.

Results!

As if inspired by the movement, Xavier pushed harder, forcing the door open.

The sound of a wire being retracted sounded the moment the door flew open, revealing the room behind it.

Everything was washed in a sickly, yellowish light- almost as if the bare bulb overhead was filled with fresh oil, or the room had been coated in it. Even the walls themselves looked greasy, slick- dilapidated. What sparse furnishings were left in the room did little to contrast with the stark, bleak…yellow.

"Now what?" Laura asked, hanging back in the hallway, clearly ill at ease with whatever was in the room.

"Whatever we do…we got three minutes to get it done," Jonas remarked, eyes fixed on the door across the room. Another odd fit, another industrial-strength locked door.

"What the fuck?" Mike wondered, pushing past the drug dealer and examining the room. An envelope sat speared on a jutting bit of exposed wire- but before Mike could get a good look at it, Jonas had snatched it up and torn the envelope open, pulling a tape from within it and sliding it into the tape player.

"Hello, Xavier. I want to play a game. The game I want to play is very similar to the one that you've been playing as a drug dealer. A game of offering hope to the desperate for a price. I think we can agree that your situation is desperate so I offer you hope. The price you pay is that you must crawl into the same pit of squalor you force your customers into…" the voice on the tape rasped.

"Hey…" Daniel murmured, his voice barely audible over Jigsaw's recorded monologue.

"You find somethin'? Let me see," Mike replied, stepping over to the rusty bed frame Daniel had been examining. He had pulled the blanket away to reveal the framework…

And the pit just below.

"By entering this room," the tape continued, "a timer has been started. When the timer expires, the door in front of you will be locked forever. Only in finding the key before the timer runs out, can you unlock it and retrieve the antidote inside."

There was an antidote…a chance to survive. Yes…

"I will give you just one hint as to where that key is…"

Xavier had moved over to the bed frame by now, and was looking through the framework. He paused for a single second before he pushed it out of the way, revealing the pit below it in full.

"It'll be like finding a needle in a haystack," the voice of the tape chuckled. "Let the game begin."

Ava stared at the pit, her stomach twisting in discomfort. Needles…so many dirty, grimy needles. She almost pitied Xavier, but better him than her.

"Somebody's goin' in there…" The drug lord's voice, hoarse with rage and desperate rang out into the silence of the room.

All the blood drained from Ava's face and her hand curled into a fist at her side. She knew it. There was no way in hell that this fucker was going into his own test. He'd proved earlier than he'd rather someone else do the dirty work for him and collect the profits that came from their suffering.

A cold presence flooded her body, turning her bones to solid steel. Purpose rose up in her mind and Ava inhaled the poisoned air like it was pure oxygen.

It was starting…

"Somebody's going fuckin' in there, man."

"Yes…I think they are…" Ava said, in a voice that wasn't quite her own. "But it's not us." She grinned at the hulking Latino. "It's you."

"Fuck you!" Xavier spat, his already-limited power of reasoning reduced to absolute zero in the face of his own test. He started toward Ava- but then stopped abruptly, turning his attention to the rest of the room's occupants.

His eyes settled on Amanda, and he lunged, grabbing her arm just above the elbow. She struggled to break free-

-and in that same half-second, a number of things happened.

Jonas and Daniel, seemingly in shock at Xavier's sudden move, backed away, clearing a path between Mike and the drug dealer. Laura screamed, sinking to the floor and pulling her knees to her chest.

Mike threw himself at Xavier, bringing the shovel up in a blinding arc toward the drug dealer's stomach.

"_Your_ fucking test!" Mike bellowed, a blazing rush of adrenaline and rage kicking his body into overdrive as the flat of the shovel's blade collided with Xavier's torso, knocking the wind from his lungs and doubling the hulking dealer over. "Now _get in the fucking pit_, you candy-ass motherfucker!" He swung the shovel again, this time in a downward strike across Xavier's mid-back- and followed through with a kick that sent him headfirst into the needle pit.

"FUCK!" Xavier screamed, thrashing wildly in the pile of filthy needles. "Fuck you, King! You hear me? I'm gonna fuckin' kill you!" His hands found the edge of the pit- but before Xavier could pull himself free, Mike drove his heel down on Xavier's exposed fingers, the heavy tread of his boots grinding brutally against the drug lord's hand.

"Cowardly piece of shit! Finish your fuckin' test!" Mike lashed out with another kick, aimed squarely for Xavier's face- and connected, sending the behemoth of a man back into the needles.

"Stupid, worthless cocksucker! FIND THAT GODDAMN KEY!" Mike shouted, part of his brain faintly aware that he had slipped into the voice he used while "singing" with Ripjack- if the death-metal growls could, in fact, be _called _singing.

Whatever was boiling beneath his skin, it wanted out.

And it wanted Xavier _dead_.

Numb with cold, blinding hate, Ava glanced towards the timer on the wall and then down to Xavier, who was digging through the needles…screaming…god, she loved the screams more than any other sound.

Blades through flesh sang, but screaming echoed, consumed. It was beauty in the highest form imaginable.

"We haven't got much time left," she said coldly, circling the opposite side of the pit, her eyes on the man below, but her sentence was directed at Mike.

"If he doesn't find it, then what?" she nearly purred, on the verge of openly salivating as the needles dug deep into the drug lord's skin, sticking into his flesh. If he didn't die of the nerve gas, whatever kind of horrific diseases on those needles would kill him anyway.

She couldn't find it within herself to feel sorry for him.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?"

A voice. Female. Addison.

"Shut up," Ava snarled. "It was his test. This is what Jigsaw _wants_ to happen. He wasn't gonna get in there on his own." She chuckled, her eyes glinting through her fringe. "Sometimes…people just need a little bit of incentive to move along."

0:25…0:24…0:23…

"You're running out of time, Xavier," Ava called down to him. "If you don't get that key, you'll have died for nothing!"

"Fuck you, bitch!" he roared up at her, eyes wild as he searched through the needles. "I'll kill you too! I'll kill you ALL!"

"Quit your bullshit and keep fuckin' looking," she retorted.

With a sudden cry of triumph, the Latino grasped something in his palm and raised his hand. The key!

He slammed his closed fist down on the edge of the pit…only to have his hand crushed under Mike's boot.

"Thanks," the rocker growled, delivering a bone-shattering kick to Xavier's face, sending him sprawling back into the pit.

"Hurry up!" Ava snapped. "Mike, come _on!_ MOVE!"

With the speed born of desperation, Mike lunged across the room, the all-important key clenched tightly in his grasp as he felt around for the hole in which it fit. It took no more than a second, if even that, before he found the hole and pressed the key to it, fitting it into the slot and twisting in one fluid motion.

Thankfully enough, both sides of the key were cut the same way- it was a simple fit. The door swung open slowly, the timer displayed on the front frozen at fourteen seconds.

They had cut it close…but now, someone else would live. Mike pulled the heavy door open to reveal a small closet- barely wide or deep enough for him to stand in. Dangling from a fine chain, positioned at eye level, was the syringe.

Full of antidote, as promised. He pulled it from the chain, turned back to the others- and froze.

All eyes were on him. Jonas, on edge but hopeful. Addison, terrified. Laura, scared stiff. Obi, unreadable as before. Daniel, uneasy. Ava, looking like she would leap out of her skin for the antidote. Amanda, taken aback, but…grateful.

Xavier was still in the pit. Exactly where he belonged.

"And now what to do with this thing, huh?" Mike asked, already well aware of the answer to his rhetorical question.

Someone had to take the antidote. Someone would get their shot at surviving.

But who?


	7. Master of Puppets

**Chapter Seven - Master of Puppets**

**Co-written with Renegade Vic**

* * *

Addison needed it. That much was obvious. She was barely able to stand, anymore. But what was her test? Why was she here?

Jonas wasn't in much better condition, if the pallor of his skin and how sunken his eyes looked were any indicator. He had earned his keep…had tried to keep everyone focused.

Ava would probably kill him for it, if push came to shove.

Daniel was smaller than almost any of them- the poison would be taking effect in his body faster than anyone else. He wouldn't have long if they didn't get him an antidote.

Amanda had almost been thrown into the pit herself. And her knowledge was valuable, even if she didn't know what "games" were coming. She knew how to survive.

But why not keep it for himself? The pain of the last attack was still etched into Mike's mind. It was debilitating…and if it happened again, he might not be able to keep fighting. The others needed him, especially with Xavier around. He was the only one who could go toe-to-toe with the brute and walk away.

_Decisions, decisions…_

"Obi. What should I do with it?" Mike asked, turning to the man whose test he had helped him win.

"The weakest one. The one who needs it the most. Give it to them," Obi murmured, his voice barely audible over Xavier's groans of pain.

"Yeah. Probably…" Mike trailed off, glancing over the others again.

"Ad…come here. This shit's been kicking your ass since we got here, and you're just gettin' worse." He beckoned toward the brunette, who stepped toward him hesitantly. "Look. I know we're not all good fuckin' Samaritans here, but the way I see it, fuck this gimme-gimme bullshit. We get an antidote, whoever's hurtin' the worst gets it. That way we keep more people in the game, keep more eyes open and brains workin'. See what I'm saying? If we've got somethin' in common, I wanna live to find out what the fuck that IS."

For a second, Ava's vision tunneled. Everything around her turned to blackness, except the antidote held in Mike's hand. The syringe was full of clear liquid that almost looked identical to water. Pure, life-giving water…

A hand like iron tightened inside her chest and she was just about to leap at the rocker and tear off his whole fucking arm…when she stopped and staggered, coughing up blood into her hand and knocking her from the overwhelming homicidal intent that threatened to consume her.

That had been more than a little bit close. Her animal instincts were kicking in and the next time she was faced with the chance to survive, she would probably take it. And kill anyone or anything that got in her way.

The only way to avoid succumbing to her inner demon was simple enough. Her own test. If she survived, then the antidote was rightfully hers. No giving to the weakest member of the group this time.

No.

She watched, nostrils flaring, as Addison took the syringe from Mike with a tired smile.

"Thanks," she said, sticking the needle into the prominent vein in her forearm with the ease of a practiced professional and pushed down the plunger.

Three cured. Obi, Laura and now Addison.

And the rest of them would die, but she'd be damned if Xavier didn't die first. Inhaling heavily, she stared down at him. He was still groaning slightly, but other than that, he could have been dead.

"You did a good thing, man," said Jonas, nodding in approval at Mike. "Better than that stupid motherfucker down there."

"He's got his priorities right, it seems," Ava murmured. "At least morally speaking."

Mike had chosen others over himself. He was willing to prolong the chance of his own death just to save someone else. Seemed stupid and reckless if you chose to ignore how much of a good thing it was. He was the polar opposite of the fucker in the pit.

"We should keep moving," said Obi quietly. "We're wasting time here and there are other chances to get the antidotes for the rest of you."

"He's…he's right…" Daniel looked paler than he had earlier, the redness around his eyes more prominent than ever. It was easy to see that he was minutes from bleeding from his eye sockets and possibly his nostrils. "We should go…"

"What about him?"

Amanda was looking down at the half-dead drug dealer in the pit and biting her lip nervously. After what he'd done, it was surprising that she was even asking.

"Leave him," Ava hissed contemptuously. "He's served his purpose."

Moving past the others, she walked back out into the corridor. She had to find her test. She _had_ to find it. There was no negotiating this point.

And there was no fucking way she was dying before she found it.

At the others' approval of his decision, Mike breathed a sigh of relief. What they had just been faced with could have turned _incredibly_ ugly- but now, they had a battle plan. A way to keep everyone alive. And it seemed like something everyone was agreeable to.

Now they really _were_ looking up to him. So far, three people had been cured, and Xavier had been put down- hopefully for good this time. And they would have time to find more antidotes.

They had to. There was no way he was dying because of that fucking nerve gas…and there was no way he was going to let someone _else_ die like that.

Anyone who wasn't Xavier, anyway.

Maybe he should finish the dealer off? If he ever _did_ get out of the pit, he'd be coming for blood- that much was obvious. But the question was whether he even _could_ get out.

It wouldn't matter. If they stuck together, he wouldn't have a chance to pick them off. The knife was tucked in Mike's boot, and the shovel was in his hands. As long as they kept anything that could be used as a weapon, Xavier would be going against an armed mob if he even _tried_ to take someone down with him.

"C'mon. We've gotta find more antidotes," Mike instructed, fighting back the urge to cough again. If he started, he wouldn't be able to stop…

"Yeah. Let's get outta here…keep goin' while we're on a roll," Jonas voiced, lending a shoulder to Mike as he made his way uneasily from the room.

Where had Ava gone? She had taken off just a few moments before…but now she was nowhere to be seen.

Her footsteps, though, were easy to follow. Mike stumbled onward, toward the sound of the footsteps, determined not to let anyone get separated from the group until they _knew_ Xavier was dead.

"You didn't have to do that." Amanda was still as quiet as ever, but her voice sounded less hard…more compassionate this time.

"What? Let that stupid fuck throw you in there? He's a fuckin' coward…wouldn't face his own test, earn his own way out. The way I see it…he didn't deserve the chance he got."

"I…no. He had his chance…you're right." The words sounded difficult for her to form.

Why? What did she know that no one else knew?

"Wait a minute…" Realization dawned on Mike as he turned and caught a proper look at Amanda's face- or, rather, her profile.

She was the girl from the clinic, last year. He had taken Addison there to try and help her shake her addictions…and they'd talked in the waiting room while Addison had been inside.

Then that greaseball had tried to pick a fight with him for talking to her. Cecil. He was some territorial fuck with less sense than he'd been born with and a chip on his shoulder against anyone and everyone different than he was.

He'd wanted a fight. What he got was a broken nose and a stomach full of fist.

"What?" Amanda asked, noticing Mike's stare and raising an eyebrow.

"…Nothin'. I'll tell you when we get outta here."

Ava stumbled through the house, her vision blurred to the point that she was getting by on touch alone. Was she crying, or was it blood flowing down her cheeks?

She had to find her test. She was dying, more so with every minute that passed. If she didn't get the cure soon, she was going down and it was unlikely that she'd get up again.

Every breath was becoming an effort and her knees felt like they were deteriorating with every step she took.

"I'm…not…fucking dying like this," she rasped, stumbling forward and clutching at the wall in front of her…and touching metal.

A doorknob?

As Ava lost her balance, she gripped the doorknob to steady herself…and it twisted downward. The door the knob was attached to opened and she spilled into the room, the smell of mildew assaulting her nostrils as she fell face first into the floor.

"Goddammit!" she snarled, coughing as she dragged herself to her knees, not trusting her body's ability to move any further upward. Gravity, it seemed, was totally against her.

Raising her head and willing the blurriness to fade from her vision, Ava saw what appeared to be a towering pole of shining steel…two of them…right in front of her.

A test…

Hers? She didn't know or care, but she couldn't move. With a moan of defeat, she dropped her forehead to her knees.

"No…" she whimpered. "No, I can't die like this…"

Footsteps. Someone was here.

"Shit."

A male voice. She couldn't tell who it was and she definitely couldn't _see_ who it was. A hand on her shoulder, squeezing hard.

"It's a test…" She managed to get out to the stranger. "I don't know whose it is…"

Fear and adrenaline combined in her veins, cleared her vision a little, enough to see who had hold of her.

Long hair…the rocker. Dammit.

Ava struggled to her feet, using him to steady herself. The world swayed momentarily before returning to focus.

"There should be a tape," she murmured, staggering to the other side of the room. "Find out who this thing is for."

After a few moments' searching, Mike located an envelope, not unlike the ones they had found before- but this time, the envelope bore Ava's name.

"It's…this one's you," Mike informed her, tearing the envelope in half and tipping the tape into his hand. Jonas grabbed the tape and prepared to insert it into the player- but Mike held up his hand in warning.

"Don't listen to it yet. See what we can figure out about this thing…and _then_ how we're 'supposed to' do it." He made his way to the poles and began to examine them.

They were thick- almost improbably so. Mike's hand, long though his fingers were, couldn't quite reach across the column's side.

And there was an opening on each of them. Some kind of switch sat within the hole- but it hardly seemed like a good idea to attempt to throw the switches.

"So what's the deal?" Daniel asked, curiosity overtaking his fear.

"There's a switch inside these things…but I don't know what happens if you push 'em," Mike replied, pointing to the aperture on the trap.

"Easy answer is you put your hand in it and hit the switch," Jonas remarked, feeling around the base of one of the pillars. "Runs through the floor though. Think there's somethin' under here?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, man…so now we kinda know what this thing wants us to do. Play the tape…"

"Hello, Ava…"

The voice, as rough as cold as every tape since the one in that little room, chilled Ava to the bone but she listened nevertheless.

"For most of your life, you have lived as an ordinary human being, adhering to the laws that society have deemed necessary…and appropriate…but you are not…ordinary, are you?

In you, lies a demon…a demon that has claimed the lives of thirteen people. The newspapers call you…the Puppeteer."

Bile rose in Ava's throat at the name, taken straight from the Herald no less. Her chest began to tighten as Jigsaw revealed to every person in the room what she had spent most of her life hiding, protecting.

Her true identity.

"The device in front of you is a symbol…of what you did to your victims. To release the mechanism on the door, you must make the same sacrifice within five minutes, or the door will lock and any chance you may have had for survival becomes more…ambiguous." Jigsaw chuckled. "I have only one question for you, Ava. How much blood will you shed…to survive? Let the game begin."

Her eyes were shut tight, against the world outside and the knowledge that she had been exposed. After everything, it had been a voice on a tape that was her undoing.

"The Puppeteer…" Jonas' voice rang out over the silence. "Holy fucking shit, _you're _the Puppeteer?"

"Yeah…I'm the fucking Puppeteer," Ava snarled, raising her head and getting to her feet, her weakness pushed to the back of her mind as she glared at the others. "That's why I'm here. I'm a fucking serial murderer."

"Vigilante…"

Ava blinked in surprised as the kid spoke, his eyes to the floor. "You don't kill innocent people. You…you string up bad guys…and bleed 'em out."

"The newspapers love me for that," she chuckled, turning back to the two pillars, gritting her teeth. "Let's hope I survive this and give 'em more to write about, huh?"

Pausing to draw in a careful breath, Ava slipped both of her hands into the open holes, her fingers just brushing the switches.

"Thanks much, Jigsaw," she murmured, before flipping both switches at once…

And razor-sharp blades sliced into her wrists.

His jaw was hanging open- of that much, Mike was absolutely sure. But he just couldn't bring himself to care at the moment.

Ava was the Puppeteer.

Holy _shit!_

How could she be? It didn't make sense. Then again, nothing made sense once Jigsaw had gotten his hands on them. And now it had been revealed to them that they were trapped in this house not only with a psychotically violent drug lord, but also with a vigilante.

No, not a vigilante. Mike had grown up reading comics about vigilantes, about mercenaries- about vigilantes going toe-to-toe with sadistic, sick fucks. Slavers, torturers, serial killers. Sure, the Puppeteer- Ava- had targeted people who got no less than they had coming…but the killings weren't how a vigilante functioned.

What she was doing was for her own benefit, not to avenge anyone, not to protect anyone else.

Was that so bad, though? He'd contemplated bringing his M1911 clone with him to a race, splattering Jericho's brains across the inside of his windshield, and driving off without giving it a second thought before. He'd beaten the hell out of Xavier with a shovel…and enjoyed it, felt _satisfied_ in doing so.

No. It wasn't the brutality that was so satisfying, it was knowing that by pounding him into the floor, no one else was going to get hurt.

If anything, _that_ was how a vigilante worked. Right?

_Right?_

But she didn't deserve this, either. The expression on Ava's face as the blades cut her, bled her from her wrists, wasn't…right. Mike wasn't sure how to explain it to himself, but somehow, it would have been like letting Obi burn in the furnace. Like letting Xavier force Amanda to endure his test for him.

It just wasn't right.

"Fuck…there's gotta be something we can do about this!" Mike began to examine the pillars, half-hoping that something else had changed since Ava had pushed the switches.

Ava couldn't describe the agony as the blade sliced through the delicate skin of her wrists. It seared white-hot, her blood boiling as it spilled over her palms, over her fingers, and dripped into the pillars. God knows how much blood it would take before the mechanism was full and the antidote was revealed. But this was Jigsaw. Despite every instinct in her body screaming for her to find the man and hang him like so many of her other victims, she had to believe what Amanda had said.

_He wants us to survive this!_

He wanted Ava to survive, despite everything that she had done to 'deserve' being shut in here and tortured like this.

"Jesus…FUCK!" A whimper escaped her lips as she felt the feeling vanish in her knees. "There's nothing you can fucking do, Mike," she groaned, eyes rolling back into her head as she fought against the overwhelming need to fall over and pass out. "This is fucking…Jigsaw…I have to do this…"

"How much blood did you make your victims lose? He…he said you have to make the same sacrifice-" Daniel asked desperately, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

Ava swung around to face him, her lips curled into a grimacing smirk.

"I bled them _dry_, kid. If I have to make the same _fucking_ sacrifice, I die."

And she would die. And everything she had worked for, everything that she'd done in her life for the greater good, would have been for nothing. The streets would become dirtier in her absence; more innocent people would be hurt and slaughtered in the back alleys of this godforsaken city.

No.

No, Jigsaw didn't get to fucking do this! This was _her_ city, not his. Even if she had to spill almost all her blood just to survive this house, she would live. Because as far as Ava Sullivan was concerned, she was going to pass her 'test'. And then she was going to find Jigsaw and either join him…or cut out his fucking heart.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed her bleeding wrists harder against the blades, the rate of blood-spill increasing.

She was getting dizzy…

"How much more?" she groaned, sagging slightly against the device. "Can anybody see how much blood…I need to…give…?"

_Sacrifice…_

Her vision was blurring, and all she could hear was a vacant buzzing sound over the top of the voices of the others, becoming fainter…

"No…"

"Nothing- it doesn't show how much it needs," Mike replied, pacing frantically around the device, looking for _anything_ that might somehow make the process a little easier, a little faster. "Fuck…we're gonna need bandages, guys, someone…fuckin'…cut strips from a shirt or somethin', I donno!" He pulled the hunting knife from his boot and passed it to Addison, watching with growing dread as Ava's strength ebbed and her knees threatened to buckle.

"Keep her upright…" Obi murmured, stepping forward and positioning himself at Ava's side, bracing her shoulders against his own. "Mike. Help."

He was doing it again. Trying to make the situation a little more manageable, a little more merciful. Had he been the one to kidnap Ava as well? Mike found himself less than surprised by the possibility, even as he stepped in toward Ava's other side and held her in place, staring in outright shock at how pale she was- or rather, how much _more_ pale she had gotten from blood loss. Her face wasn't even chalk-white, but some shade of white that had never existed before; her veins were dark blue and acutely visible beneath her skin.

When he saw the blades in place, Mike began to grasp why Obi had insisted she be kept upright. If she collapsed, they would shred her arms, and there would be nothing anyone could do to stop her from bleeding out.

"If this thing doesn't stop soon, we're gonna have to get her out of it…figure out a new way to do this…"

Ava was in a state of oblivion, her body cold all over as shock began to set in. She was vaguely aware of the two people holding her up, but she couldn't feel their hands, couldn't feel her own face.

She couldn't see. She couldn't hear anything.

For the first time in her entire life, Ava felt as weak as a newborn baby, her muscles felt like jelly and her knees were on the verge of collapsing inward.

"She's…gonna need…for god's sake…"

Voices. She couldn't tell who it was or what they were saying, but they were close to her, holding her to Earth.

"Fucking…"

She tried to speak, but her tongue felt like it had been coated in lead and was refusing to cooperate.

_How much blood will you shed to stay alive…alive…alive…_

Fuck you, Jigsaw.

Ava managed to raise her head, just as there was a loud whirring sound and the blades retracted into their original positions within the pillars. She was free…

She had passed…

"Goddammit…"


	8. The Tie that Binds

**Chapter Eight -The Tie That Binds**

**Co-written with Renegade Vic**

* * *

Whoever was holding her upright pulled her arms out of the pillars and lowered her to the ground, the muffled sounds around her intensifying in pitch and a hand lightly shook her shoulder.

"Ava…Ava, you passed…"

_I won…_

"Don't just…fucking stand there…" she croaked, eyes on the blurry faces above her. "Get the…fucking…antidote, you…stupid…motherfucker."

"Well, we know you're gonna be okay now, at least," Mike chuckled, standing and making his way to the now-open door that, much like the previous test, revealed a cramped storage closet and a syringe dangling from a chain.

This one had a note attached to it, however. Mike plucked the card from its resting place and studied it, brow furrowing in confusion as he flipped it over, only to discover that the back was blank.

The number three had been printed on the card- and nothing else. What did it mean? Three…three what? Three kills? There had been over a dozen reported murders that fit the Puppeteer's methods. Had three been innocent? Or did it have nothing to do with her crimes? Three pints of blood, maybe? The human body could survive losing three pints of blood- Mike had lost four, once, and been laid-up in the hospital for nearly a week, but he had survived. If that was the case, Ava would be fine.

But maybe that wasn't it, either. Maybe it would hold significance only to Ava.

Only one way to find out. Mike removed the syringe from the hook that held it in place, returning to the group- and the still sprawled-out Ava.

"This one's yours. You lost a lot of blood…body's not gonna fight the gas for long if we don't get this antidote in you," Mike stated, seeking out a vein in the semi-conscious woman's arm. At least the others had tied off her wounds- and if the material was any indicator, it had been Obi's shirt they had used.

_Big damn hero, huh…_ Mike thought, the realization that he was only half-joking giving him momentary pause. Something had triggered him to get back into the process of keeping people alive.

"Just…give me…fucking…antidote…already," Ava groaned, wincing again as Mike pushed the needle into the most prominent of veins just below her elbow.

"Huh, and after all we did to keep you alive, you'd think you'd be more grateful. Five bucks to me, next time you say 'fuck' in my presence, got it?" Mike taunted, dodging a feeble swing with ease. "_Ten_ if you try to hit me again."

"Dammit…"

Ava was grateful and she was relieved. As the precious antidote contained within the needle flooded into her body, she felt as though a tightening around her chest had been loosened. She could breathe again, in more ways than one.

It might have been the blood making her woozy, or the concentration of the gas, even as her body became resistant to it…but the true identity of the Puppeteer was out for the first time since she'd taken a life. A huge piece of herself had been revealed to these people, who she barely knew, and she couldn't find it within herself to jump up and slit their throats to protect herself.

After everything they'd gone through in this house, for some reason she didn't think that they would turn her in to the police, or the FBI, or anyone else. She wasn't a murderer of innocent people, so why would they want to chase her down?

Eyes widening, Ava shook her head, 'child-like' assumptions vanishing in a heartbeat. No more ignorance of the possibilities. She was cured, but she was still weak. She'd lost god-knows how much blood to this…this _device_ and her body felt like it was made of rubber.

Struggling to sit up, she grabbed the rocker's shoulder for support, digging her nails in and gritting her teeth.

"Mike…I don't think I can move around on my own," she mumbled, annoyed at herself for allowing herself to be seen in this state. "Could you…help me?"

Never, in her entire life, had Ava asked for help. The only time, and this hardly counted, was when she'd asked one of her earlier victims to 'help' her find a place in the city, where she'd consequently led them into an alley and had her 'wicked way' with them.

Before the Puppeteer…she remembered now. Pedophile. Jeremy Harvey. She'd mounted his head on a spike outside the local church.

"Just until we get out of here." She refused to meet his eyes.

"'Til that shit attacks me again, at least," Mike replied, nodding in agreement. Honestly, he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to keep going before the Sarin took its toll one time too many and left him to choke on his own blood. The taste was welling up in his mouth already- he was going to need an antidote soon. One of the next ones they found…

But there were still three other people who hadn't gotten one yet. Jonas wasn't doing so great anymore- it didn't take an expert in biological warfare to tell that the gas was playing havoc on his body. And Amanda and Daniel were both smaller than he was. They would have even less time…

Fuck. He'd just have to grin and bear it until they had enough antidotes for everyone. He'd said it himself- whoever needed the needles most would get them first.

And at least Xavier didn't get his. There were extras. If a test was impossible, they could find another one.

Ten people had been in the room when they started. The greaseball businessman didn't need his dose anymore, and neither did Xavier. Two more antidotes than they needed, to take care of everyone who was still alive.

They could do this. But they'd have to move fast.

"C'mon, we gotta move," Jonas urged, helping Mike to pull Ava to her feet and taking hold of her other shoulder, the three of them forming a grim caricature of a multi-legged race team.

For one ludicrous moment, Mike wondered if either of the other two had ever participated in a race like that as kids. Jonas might have, maybe…but Ava didn't seem the type to have enjoyed things like that, back then.

_Back then._ Like it had been so tremendously long ago. He wasn't sure how old Ava was, but Mike estimated somewhere in her twenties- younger than him, but not by much. It was hard to tell with Jonas- he looked like he might have been in his late thirties, but with the gas taking its toll on him, it was hard to tell if he was just worn down now or if he was actually much older than that.

"Huh…four legs down a hallway…" Mike trailed off, his thought process ending in a fit of entirely uncharacteristic laughter.

Oh, great. He was cracking up. He could feel it happening as his diaphragm shook with borderline-manic giddiness- and then intensifying as he realized how totally irrational it was to laugh in their present situation.

But he couldn't bring himself to care. It was so _hilarious_, their efforts to make it down the hallway, moving in such perfect step…

Ava groaned, unable to believe what she was hearing. He was _laughing!_ The demented rocker's brain had deteriorated to the point that a situation as simple as this was funny! Frankly, he and Jonas were the only things keeping her upright at all, and he thought it was funny?

She momentarily wondered whether or not Sarin had manic effects on the human brain…

"Jesus, Christ. Where's your head at, King?" Ava growled, contemplating hitting him but opting against it. She'd probably end up losing her balance and falling over, and she'd rather avoid something as embarrassing, and painful, as that. Her wrists were still aching, but at least it felt like the bleeding had stopped a little. Thankfully, Jigsaw had chosen to make her cut herself across, instead of up the vein. She wouldn't _die_ at any rate, but she'd be piss-weak for a while if she didn't get a blood transfusion when she got out of here.

"Where's…where's my head…" The rocker was in near hysterics by this point, his one free hand clutching his side.

"Hey, calm down, my man. Ain't that funny, y'know?" Jonas was looking at him now, his step slowing slightly.

"We're…look at us! We're a four legged race!"

Ava snorted at that.

Four legged race…she'd seen the other kids playing that at school when she was a child, but she'd never participated. She'd been the outcast as a kid, quiet and 'weird', as the other kids had said. 'Anti-Ava' had followed her all through Middle School to the point that it wasn't even an insult anymore. It was just what she was known by.

"Hey…"

Daniel moved past Jonas, his eyes on a cracked, empty photoframe on the wall.

"Guys, look!"

He turned back to the group, a mixture of apprehension spread over his young face, his finger still pointed at the picture.

"Don't you see it? X marks the spot!"

"Then don't just look at it and fuckin' point!" Addison snapped. "Get it!"

Mike watched as Daniel lifted the frame from its place on the wall, first checking the wall immediately behind it- and finding nothing- before turning the frame itself over. Something shifted in his expression as he did- something that silenced Mike's insane laughter as dead as the house itself seemed to be.

Fear. There was something on the back of the picture frame that Daniel didn't want anyone else to see. What was it…and WHY?

"Whatcha got there, man?" Mike asked, shifting Ava more solidly into Jonas' grip and stepping forward to get a look at what Daniel had found.

"N…nothing. There's nothing here…guess I was wr-"

"Not buyin' it, kid. C'mon. Ava's the fuckin' Puppeteer, and it _doesn't_ _matter_. If this is dirt on you, or somethin', you might as well just-" Mike reached out with blinding speed and snatched up the photo- and froze.

Staring back at him from the photograph were both Daniel…and Detective Eric Matthews.

The cop who had framed him.

"What…what the fuck? You _know_ this prick?" he asked, wishing for all the world he had a cigarette to burn through the corrupt detective's face.

"He's…" Daniel began to explain, but fell silent as Mike flipped the photograph over. The words "Father and son," written in the same black marker as everything else they had found- every envelope, every note- lay bare for him to see.

"Your dad. You're the son of the shitbag cop who had me put away for killin' a guy I never even knew existed." Memories of the trial- if it could even have been called a trial; the city loved to play kangaroo court, where anyone and everyone had their price, including that miserable, fat-faced fucking judge- came flooding back into Mike's mind, one false witness after another taking the stand in his mind again. The officer who had challenged Matthews' claim, probably the last decent cop on the force- and she had practically been booed from the stand. Dismissed without consideration.

"What the fuck're you talking about," Ava demanded, leaning heavily on Jonas and trying to see what Mike and the kid were looking at.

Corrupt cop? His son? What the hell?

"You know this motherfucker?" Mike asked, holding the picture out to her, glass down. With a cautious raised eyebrow, Ava took the photo and looked down…and promptly felt the twin sensations of her inner demon roaring and the bottom of her stomach dropping out.

"No, fucking WAY!"

Eric Matthews, fucking _Detective_ Eric Matthews, smiled up at her from the photograph, his arm around Daniel.

Father and son.

Her hands began to shake.

"You do know him, then?"

"Fuck, yes, I know him," Ava growled, clenching her hand over the corner of the frame. "He's the asshole that got me put away for a crime I _didn't_ commit."

She thrust the picture back at the rocker, her face a rictus of hateful intensity.

"One time. First degree murder. And it was a fucking frame job."

Being framed for a killing she had nothing to do with was more than a little agitating for someone like her. They'd attempted to suggest her as the Puppeteer, but that hadn't blow over. The guy she'd been 'busted' for killing didn't fit the profile. For all she knew, the cops had killed him solely to fuck up _her_ life.

They had her prints after all, which lead her to be extremely painstaking to detail when it came to _her_ killings.

"I know that guy too," Jonas grunted. "Fucker threw me into Joliat. Five fuckin' years. Add another ten the moment I got out."

"I…I knew that didn't sound right, when you got locked away…" Addison cut in, her eyes fixed on Mike. "He did the same thing to me, too. Possession. Just to make his fuckin' buddy look like a hero…they just rounded up everyone they wanted off the streets, said we were all in some godforsaken crackhouse…"

Rigg. Mike remembered him, too. He had been the one who had questioned him…had been both the good cop and the bad cop in the same routine. At least he was the middle ground…or, if he had been the 'bad cop,' Matthews was the _worse_ cop.

Not inhuman like his buddy, though.

"Saw that one on the news," Mike replied. "Not like there's much to do in prison but watch the news, read the papers, and beat the shit outta anyone who tries to make you their bitch…"

They had never gotten to him. A few of the big guys had tried to bring him down, but they'd learned firsthand just how much pain a shattered kneecap could cause. Everyone had left him alone after that…which was fine for Mike. All he had to do was sweat it out until his case got appealed- and that had been a matter of months.

"He…he's the one who brought me in, too…" Laura added, her eyes as wide with fear as they had been when that slimeball had gotten shot earlier. "He said if I didn't…didn't confess, that they'd- they'd just dump me off somewhere after they were done with me…" With a final whimper, she shrunk back behind Obi, presumably to collect her nerves.

"Me, too." It was unlikely that the others had heard her, but Amanda had spoken up as well. "Apparently I was just some 'useless junkie bitch' that no one was gonna miss…"

It was like a fireball had gone off in the pit of Mike's stomach. Now they knew what they had in common. Eric fucking Matthews. He had ruined all of their lives, one at a time…

And now his son was standing in front of them, wishing he was anywhere but where he was.

"You poor bastard. Poor, poor, unfortunate bastard," Mike chuckled, turning his attention back to the youth who looked for all the world like he was trying to disappear into the floorboards. "I get what you mean, 'bout him being a hardass."

Daniel looked up suddenly, the expression on his face shifting from one of terror to one of utter confusion. "You mean…you guys…you're not gonna…"

Mike had to suppress the urge to start laughing again. This kid thought he was gonna take out his problems with his crooked fuck-up of a father on him?

"What? Blame _you_ for the shit he did? Are you fuckin' kidding? Me and your dad, we've got shit to settle one day…but that's him diggin' his _own_ grave, not yours, you get what I'm saying?"

"But…I thought…"

"What, because your daddy brought us in, we're gonna kill you?" Ava managed a sarcastic smirk. "Look, kid. I'm a serial killer and even _I'm_ not interested in offing you. Far as I'm concerned, you're just as much in this shit as we are. Only he's your dad."

And it was as close as a 'psychopathic murderer' like her could come to the truth. Daniel was an innocent and thus of no interest to her. Or anyone in here. With the exception of Xavier, but Ava had her doubts he was even _alive_ anymore.

The look that spread across the kid's face was something like relieved-anxiety, if there is such an expression. He seemed less tense when he realized that Mike and Ava weren't gonna kill him, but he was still cautious. The others had said nothing on the subject of his well-being, preferring to just stare at him instead.

They weren't going to hurt him. They'd been tested. And the others that hadn't been either had a moral backbone or had been cured.

Loyalty and gratefulness didn't make for a violent combination in her book.


	9. Hammer and Chains

**Chapter Nine: Hammer and Chains**

**Co-written with Renegade Vic**

**

* * *

**

"So…what now?" Addison grumbled, leaning against the wall in a mock stance of boredom.

"We keep movin'," Jonas replied, shifting his grip on Ava's upper arm slightly as he moved to properly look at the entire group. "No sense just standin' here, is there?"

"There's a few more tests to go," Amanda murmured from the back. "We find them, we find the antidotes and we all get out of here alive."

"With the exception of our dearly departed Latino," Ava muttered, just loud enough for Jonas and Mike to hear.

"She's right. Let's go!"

With an awkward first step, Jonas moved ahead and Ava slid over to balance herself with Mike's shoulder, her steps somewhat more solid than they had been.

"Think I'm getting a bit of feeling back now," she said. "I'll be able to walk soon, maybe."

"Don't hold your breath," the rocker replied, looking just as pale and drawn as she knew she would be. "You lost a lot of blood on that fuckin' thing. Just don't overexert yourself."

"Wasn't planning on it," Ava shot back, stretching out a hand to the wall. Mike was taking it worse than he was letting on to the others. She could feel his skin beneath her hand, and it was cool and clammy. The gas was taking its toll and it wouldn't be long before he was leaning on _her_ for support. What a fucking awesome duo they'd make, she thought to herself sarcastically as they followed the others.

"So, Matthews got you for murder, didn't he? Framed, I should say. Who was the guy? You said the cops said you killed him for his Dodge, didn't they?"

"Yeah, dumbasses that they were. Anyone who fuckin' knows me, knows how much I…" Mike trailed off, suddenly aware of a series of red flags and alarms going off in his brain all at once. "Wait a second. I never said shit about the car."

Ava knew something about the murder he had been framed for. What she knew, and more importantly how she knew it, was unknown- but the prickling sense of unease that struck the hairs on his neck on end told Mike he wouldn't like the answers he got.

"They mentioned it in the papers," Ava replied, tone evasive. "I don't remember the guy's name, though…no idea why I remember the car, either. Weird details stick out, sometimes."

"No, they didn't. That cop, Kerry…she said the courts wouldn't give a fuck about how much I hate Dodge. Said she believed me, but that it didn't fuckin' matter," Mike growled. If there had been one definite "good cop" out of the bunch, it was Kerry. She actually seemed to grasp the notion of "innocent until proven guilty"- and to understand people a little bit.

"You know somethin'…" It wasn't a question- there was no way Ava would know about the car unless…

Unless she had been there.

"No, scratch that. You had to have seen the car."

"I…" Ava's defences hadn't gone up in time. She'd made a stupid fucking mistake, one of many that had happened inside this house. And now, he was looking at her with that suspicious look in his eyes that made her wish she could walk properly just so she could get away from him. One exposure of an otherwise secret aspect of herself was enough for one night. Any more, and she might just lose what little remaining sanity she had left.

"It's a complicated situation, alright?" she snapped. "Just because I know more about your case than the everyday reader, doesn't mean I was involved in any way with that guy's death."

"Never said you were, Ava. You did."

Without missing a beat or batting an eyelash, Mike had cornered her. She had lied. She remembered the guy's name quite clearly.

"Goddammit," she hissed, trying to move away from the rocker, holding onto the wall for support. "Don't ask fucking questions you don't want to hear the answers for, Mike. Trust me. Better to stay ignorant."

Mitchell Harris.

A nameless stranger whom she normally wouldn't have glanced twice at. But, as all humans do at some point in their lives, Harris made a mistake. A mistake that couldn't be left unpunished.

"Trust me." She hesitated. "You'll have fuckin' nightmares."

"Matthews is the one who fuckin' did this to me," Mike persisted, following just behind Ava as she staggered onward. "So unless you're sayin' you made him frame me, nothing changes. See?"

The truth was, he didn't really care _what_ the truth was as long as he knew. There were pieces missing from the puzzle that Ava could fill in for him, one way or another. It was all vital information.

"Fine. You want to know so badly? I didn't make him do any of it…_he_ made _me_ do it. He knew who I was, or he said he did. I don't fucking know which way it was, but I played right into what he wanted done. You want to know how I know Mitchell Harris drove a Dodge Avenger? I _killed_ _him_ in it. Bashed his fucking brains out all over the interior."

It was as if time had slowed down around Mike- or if the world had, but time had stayed the same. Ava…was responsible for the killing that put him away. Why?

He knew why. Matthews had cornered her. He had always been good at bluffing, at coming up with bullshit evidence that his paid judges would accept unquestioningly. Matthews got his pay hike, the judges' pockets got lined a little thicker every year, and no one any of them cared about got hurt in the process- assuming any of them were capable of caring in the first place.

She didn't have a choice- or if she did, it wasn't something she had seen at the time. Matthews was good at playing both ends against the middle, and against one another, in order to come out ahead- they had eight perfectly good examples walking around in the same building to prove it.

"Gonna…kill that fucker," Mike growled, his fists clenching around the imaginary neck of Eric Matthews. "Help me do it. But make damn sure he suffers."

Ava turned, masking her astonishment with a smirk.

"Mike, I'm the fucking Puppeteer. Suffering is what I do."

He hadn't attacked her. That was the first instance of total surprise after she'd confessed to the killing of Mitchell Harris. She'd supposed that due to her involvement in the murder than had got him jailed, Mike would have jumped at her for even doing it in the first place. If she hadn't, then he might not have been here.

But she had had to. Mitchell Harris had come round to her neck of the woods, waited until she showed and basically called her out for every, single Puppeteer killing. His death was sloppy and brash, but she'd had no choice. He was going to the Herald and the LA Times with the 'evidence' that he had collected, and he was only there to gloat about her impending doom. In retrospect, the claw hammer to the head was probably a blessing, even if it didn't reflect her usual killings, which worked for _her_ at least.

It was messy. And it had gotten Mike put away. To think, if she'd made a bit of effort on Harris, he might have been spared the prison sentence.

It had taken three strikes to kill the fucker. And ten more to splatter his face on the windows and smash in his skull. She had considered decapitating him, but she hadn't been 'on patrol', unlike the cop car that had driven by exactly a minute after she stepped out of the backseat of the Dodge and was wiping blood and brain-matter off her blouse.

A single side-step had been her saving grace, along with the large dumpster. The cop had seen the car, walked over to write it up for illegal parking…and then saw the body.

Or what was left of it.

He'd turned his back for a moment and Ava had made her escape, the dark-haired officer none the wiser.

"I've got a whole _theme park_ of red delights for Detective Matthews," she growled to herself, taking a few quick steps forward before stumbling, clutching the wall again. "Right after I have a bit of R and R," she grumbled to herself.

"Hey, guys!" Daniel came running back, his eyes wide. "We found a door! We found another door!"

Wordlessly, Mike fell in step behind Daniel, using his shovel as an improvised crutch as he approached the door.

"Stuck?" he asked, leaning his shoulder against the unpainted door. Daniel nodded, staring at the lock.

"Yeah, it won't budge. We've tried-" Daniel's explanation was cut off abruptly as Mike backed up and threw himself into a flying side-kick, smashing through the door, the entire knob- and a portion of the wood surrounding it- broken off from the rest. The door swung open under the sudden application of force.

Another grimy room, the wallpaper and paneling long-since ripped from the framework. It was even more sparsely furnished than the room Ava's test had taken place in, with a spindly metal table, coated with rust, serving as the only object in the room that looked as if it had originally belonged in the house.

The sound of an engine roaring to life jarred Mike's focus from the table…to the device in the center of the room. A large, cylindrical pillar, made from some sort of blackened metal, began to shift slowly, rotating almost excruciatingly slowly. A number of chains hung from various rings that dotted the device.

On the table sat another envelope. Mike stepped over to the table to pick it up and tear it open- and froze.

His own name was written on this envelope. This was his test.

What the fuck was this thing, anyway? The question plagued his mind, distracting him as he tore the envelope open with shaky hands, tipping its contents- another audio tape, just like before- into his hand.

"This one's…it's mine, guys," he stated, turning to face them. "My test."

The device began to spin faster, the chains rattling as they were pulled away from the column by the centrifugal force.

Ava stumbled into the room, a shudder travelling her entire body at the sound of the scraping of chains and the powerful roar of an engine. Leaning against the doorframe for support, she practically fell into the room, only just managing to keep her footing.

At the sight of the rapidly spinning pillar, she took a quick step back, pressing her back against the wall.

"Who's test?" she murmured to Daniel, who seemed transfixed by the device.

"M…Mike's test," he replied, his voice weak and shaky, either from fear or the effects of the gas, she didn't know.

"Huh…"

She couldn't bring herself to comment further as Mike opened the envelope he was holding and the little tape slid into his hand, the same block writing reading, "Play Me".

"Tape-player," the rocker said coolly, holding out his hand for it. Jonas dropped it into his open palm without comment and Ava knew why.

Whenever a human being is faced with a potentially life-threatening situation, they experience a kind of shut down, a detachment from their emotions, in order to properly analyze the situation. Most would interpret this as a bad thing, but it was actually quite beneficial, especially since she had no idea exactly what Jigsaw planned to put Mike through in order for him to win his antidote and survive.

Popping open the tape-player, Mike slotted in the tape, closed it and thumbed the play button and the all-too familiar voice spoke.

"Hello, Mike. You've probably gathered who I am by now, but I've known who you are for a long time. You live your life in the fast lane, never slowing down to appreciate what you have and where you are. Tonight, we'll see just how fast you _do_ live."

"The machine in front of you is powered by an engine much like the one in your car. It will not stop spinning, no matter what you do…the key to the door in front of you is located on the device- but can you locate it- and get to it in time? In three minutes, the door will lock forever, and you will no longer be able to reach the antidote behind it. Live or die, Mike- let the game begin."

By the time the tape had finished, the device had picked up considerable speed; the chains were now whipping around with blinding speed, whistling through the air as they spun.

The longer he waited, the less chance there would be of getting to the key. Of this much, Mike was sure. But it was already spinning so fast…the chains were likely to break bones if they connected at all. One good blow to the head or neck would leave him paralyzed at best, and dead at worst. There was no way to get close without getting torn apart…was there?

Sweat, cold and clammy, began to slick Mike's palms. Whatever he did, there wasn't much time to figure it out.

"Fuckin' A…" Mike groaned, steeling himself for what he had to do. There were no two ways about it- he'd have to run in and look for the key.

"Mike." Amanda was tapping him on the shoulder, holding his jacket out to him. "Put this back on."

She was right. The leather would cushion some of the blow- it had been designed to survive motorcycle crashes. Mike took hold of the jacket, grateful for its thickness, particularly the additional layers in its shoulders and sleeves.

"Thanks. It's still gonna fuckin' hurt, but maybe it'll just _bruise_ bones, rather than break 'em now," he replied, forcing a grin as he pulled his jacket back on.

The engine powering the column's rotation revved again, accelerating the process that much more. If he was going to do it, now was the time.

A minute and twenty-seven seconds. The clock in the steel door across the room was counting away the seconds he had to complete the test. By the two-minute mark, it would probably be impossible to get anywhere close to the device.

Fuck it. Now or never. With a death-defying yell that wasn't quite any known language, Mike charged toward the spinning column, holding the shovel out to his side with both hands. If he was lucky, one of the chains would catch on it.

It did. One of the chains wrapped around the shovel's handle, swinging around the point of impact to lash into Mike's back with a resounding _CRACK_. White-hot lances of pain dug into Mike's ribcage as he shifted his grip from the shovel to the chain-

-and was lifted from his feet as the device kept spinning. This was where he had to be. Mike allowed the shovel to slip from his grip, dimly aware of the sound of it impacting the wall- probably forced _through_ the wall- and used his other hand to take hold of a nearby handle.

Jigsaw wanted him to climb on the damn thing? He must not have known he was dealing with a free-runner. Mike spider-crawled his way across the pillar, an inch at a time, not bothering to seek out footholds as he desperately clung to the steel rods, to the chains- to anything that would get him a little closer to the key.

Within a few moment, Ava had given up trying to see what the hell was going on. Mike King had become Mike King, the Unseeable Blur and watching the device spin was getting to her head and making her more than a little dizzy.

Trying to fend off the coming headache, she turned her gaze to the timer on the wall, that was steadily counting down.

2:34…2:33…2:32…

Mike had spent nearly thirty second just getting _onto_ the fucking thing and if he didn't get a move on his chance, well one of them, would be lost. They still had Laura's, Gus's and Addison's tests to find, seeing as they were cured and thus they're antidotes were free game to anyone who needed them. But, for all the danger of this trap, Ava wanted to help.

Mike had tried to help her, kept her upright as her blood had pooled into the bottom of the pillars, and now here he was, faced with his trap and she was just standing there, waiting for him to succeed or fail.

She took a step forward, only to have a hand grab her around the arm, a few inches away from her bandaged wrists.

Amanda. Again.

"You can't do anything to help him," she said, sounding almost mournful. "You try and get in there, you'll die. It's _his_ test."

"His fucking test? You think I don't realize that?" Ava snapped, eyes flashing at the former junkie. "There's gotta be something we can do, isn't there?"

She shook her head and Ava seethed, pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation and regretting the movement almost immediately as her tendons stretched and her cuts seared with pain.

"Come on, Mike!" she yelled around gritted teeth. You've got two minutes!"

There it was. Held in place by a thin metal hook, the key- almost within arm's reach. But there were no hand-holds between his position on the device and the all-important key. Had he gone the wrong way? Was he supposed to have gone the other way around the column?

There was no way he'd be expected to make it all the way around in time to grab the key. It had taken him too long to climb around against the rotation- and climbing in the same direction that the trap was spinning was guaranteed to throw him from the device.

There was another chain, just a few inches past the key. If he could just get to it, somehow, Mike was confident he could get the key. But how to do it?

Rappel. The chain he was holding onto seemed longer than the rest- almost as if it had been placed there for exactly that purpose. Mike's hands shifted onto the thick, grimy chain- and he brought the soles of his boots to bear on the steel pillar.

The sudden shift in stance was dizzying- and the increased distance from the center of the column threatened to throw him from his precarious placement.

But it was the only way. Slowly, agonizingly, Mike shifted his feet along the pillar, a fraction of an inch at a time, until he was finally within reach of the key.

"CATCH!" he shouted, seizing the key between his fingers and flinging it toward where he hoped the others were standing. It was impossible to tell, anymore.

The sudden movement, however, was enough to upset his balance the rest of the way- and Mike found himself being flung around like a ragdoll, his desperate grip on the chain all that saved him from being thrown from the device.

His weight, placed entirely on the chain now, began to drag his handhold closer to the floor- and a certain death by pummeling if he fell.

He had to get back onto the pillar. Mike gripped the chain with both hands, clinging tightly to it as the device continued to fling him in faster and faster circles, climbing up the rusted metal until he was finally pressed against the central column again.

"Open the door! Open the fuckin' door!"


	10. Monster

**Chapter Ten - Monster**

**Co-written with Renegade Vic**

**A/N: Thank you, teenageroadkill, for consistently reviewing! Makes us oh-so very happy :D**

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The key hit Ava square between the eyes and fell to the floor.

"Ow! Dammit!"

She crouched and seized the shining, silver key, momentarily distracted by Mike, who was still being swung around by the device.

"Jesus, fuck…don't fucking let go!" she snarled, turning and stumbling across the room to the locked 'door', directly below where the timer was mounted.

0:20…0:19…0:18…

Shit, shit, shit!

Fumbling with the key, Ava managed to shove it into the keyhole and turn it sharply, the sound of the engine cutting off almost a second later. Not bothering to check if Mike was alright, she pulled open the door and reached in, grabbing the antidote from its chain.

The device was slowing down and she could just make out Mike's form now, clinging to the chain for dear life.

"Give it a few seconds before you let go," she called, unable to suppress the smirk that spread across her face. "Don't want to risk anything."

"Fuck…you!"

The sentence was broken in two as he swung around, still fast enough to ensure serious injury if he let go now.

"He's gonna be…pretty fuckin' dizzy, huh?" Jonas was nodding at the device, looking relieved that his fellow 'house mate' was alive.

"He's alive though. That's what counts," Ava murmured. "The more of us in one piece, the better."

Jonas turned and looked at her for a long moment, his eyebrows furrowed. Ava stared straight back, her face blank.

"You're one fucked up individual," the black man said. "But you ain't a psycho, are you?"

The corner of her mouth twitched.

"Believe whatever you want to believe."

With a resounding crash, Mike hit the floor and rolled out of the way of the chains, which had by now slowed enough that they couldn't hurt anyone as seriously.

"Fuck! Where is it?"

As Mike lay on the floor, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, he realized one thing in painstaking deal.

He had never been this dizzy in his entire life.

"Urgh…fuckin'…" Mike groaned, the contents of his stomach still spinning even after his body had stopped.

Then, without warning, they stopped spinning- and Mike rolled onto his side just in time for another coughing fit to rack his body. This time, it wasn't blood that was forced up- but the remnants of the sandwich he had eaten before he had been drugged and knocked out.

Disgusting. Mike continued to retch even after his stomach had been emptied, the dry heaving overwhelming everything, blocking out the world around him. It didn't matter anymore, that he was in a house full of a nerve gas, that he had just earned an antidote- that he had just discovered who had killed Mitchell Harris. All that mattered was that he stopped trying to vomit.

"Hold still, dammit," Ava murmured, rolling him onto his back and injecting the antidote into his arm. The sting of the needle was just enough to bring Mike back to reality, and he shook his head, marveling at how quickly the room had stopped spinning while he was sick.

"Guh…thanks." He attempted to stand, but found that his knees refused to cooperate. "Someone…gimme a hand, huh? We still need to…to find antidotes for…you three- wait, you six, no, fuckin'…how many of you _are_ there, Jonas?"

They all shared a laugh at that. Somehow, Mike had survived his test- and it was a source of comedy for the others. Maybe they really _would_ make it out after all.

"Just one, man. Take it easy, you earned yourself a break," Jonas replied, attempting to hide a grin at Mike's dizziness-imposed antics. "Don't need you crashin' around like a moose in a fuckin' china shop, huh?"

"Moose in a china shop?" Ava raised an eyebrow at Jonas, who was now being holding up Mike with Daniel's help, the rocker looking thoroughly green in colouring. "Haven't heard that in a while."

"Oh…god…the spin is rooming…" Mike groaned, his face toward the ground as whatever else remained in his stomach attempted to purge itself. It wasn't hard to see why he could barely stand. That device was like the amusement park ride from Hell. Get on and _die_, basically speaking.

"Come on, we need to keep moving." Amanda was already halfway out the door, her eyes wide with fear, despite the situation. Ava didn't understand. Mike had survived and had the antidote rushing through his system. Didn't that amount to _some_ kind of emotional response from her? She wanted Mike to be tested and he'd lived. What was _wrong_ with her?

Then again, Ava was hardly the right person to pass judgment on that kind of behaviour, given her history.

"Give the man a second!" Jonas protested, Mike's heaving breaths cued perfectly to get his point across.

"We don't _have_ a second! We need to keep moving. Please!"

"Amanda, what's wrong?" Ava's eyebrows were furrowed in concern and confusion and she could feel goosebumps rising on the back of her neck. Not a good sign.

A groan resonated from within the seemingly endless pit of needles and the eyes of a demon snapped open, pupils dilated and burning with all the fires of Hell. An arm, muscular and marked with prison ink and stuck through with filthy needles rose up and clutched the edge of the pit, hauling its owner up, another arm joining it. The furious creature pulled itself from its intended tomb and focused on the door.

Xavier Chavez gnashed his teeth, fury coursing through his veins and becoming his essence of life. That fucker…was gonna pay…

"They're all gonna fucking PAY!"

"We have to move. Trust me- we have to find the rest of the antidotes." Amanda's pleading was getting more frantic by the second. Whatever was bothering her seemed to be doing a damn good job of it- that much was obvious to Mike as he watched her hanging around the doorway, glancing down both ends of the hallway as if she were waiting for something.

They were all here. What was the problem?

"All right…I can move. Need my shovel, though," Mike grunted, swaying from a low crouch to stand and step haltingly toward the tool. The handle had cracked a little, but it was still sturdy enough to lean on.

"Okay- now come on! We have to get going," Amanda urged, falling in step behind Jonas and Obi, who led the way out of the room. Mike hobbled along just behind her, his equilibrium still quite off, but the additional balance of the shovel-turned-walking-stick keeping him from listing too far to either side of the narrow hallway. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Ava was following closely behind him, with Laura and Daniel bringing up the rear.

The sound of footsteps, reverberating through the floor above them, froze everyone in their tracks.

FUCK.

Xavier.

Mike's grip on the shovel tightened as he realized what Amanda must have realized moments before. If the muscle-bound drug dealer was still alive, he'd be coming for blood- probably everyone's, for leaving him there. Definitely Mike's, for beating him down, and almost certainly Ava's for taunting him. Amanda probably wasn't much better off- she had escaped, thanks to Mike.

At least he didn't know about who Daniel was. That much, he'd never find out.

"We need to find somewhere to hide," Mike whispered. "Better if it's somewhere with furniture we can shove in front of the door."

"We've still gotta find those needles," Jonas reminded him, his voice raspy. A thin trickle of blood was running from the corner of his mouth. The Sarin was really kicking his ass, now- and he was right. Three of them still hadn't been given a dose of antidote. If they tried to wait it out until Xavier succumbed to the gas, they'd be dead too.

"All right. Obi…I'm trusting you, man. You take Laura, Ava, and Ad. Go down to the basement, keep the lights off, don't fuckin' let Xavier hear ya. All right?"

"I want the shovel," Obi replied. "Have to have a way to fight." Mike nodded, handing him the shovel without another word.

"Amanda, Jonas, Daniel…you're comin' with me. We're gonna find the rest of the antidotes. Get 'em into you…and _away_ from _him_." Mike gestured to the footsteps above them.

_We should find him first,_ the cold drawl of the Puppeteer echoed in the depths of her mind, claws scrabbling at the internal defences that kept the monster caged_. Should tear him limb from limb…_

Ava squashed it, the human survival instinct surpassing the _in_human need to kill. The time was almost up and she had antidote running through her system. She was weak, but she was definitely getting out of here alive, that was for certain.

Laura gently grasped Ava's arm.

"Come on, let's go."

Taking one last glance at the other three, Ava nodded at them, her eyes hard. She hoped they'd get out alright…

"Come on!"

With a brutal tug, Laura pulled her down the hallway after Addison and Obi, who had already moved ahead.

"Watch yourselves!" Ava called over her shoulder as the blonde pulled her away, turning a corner and quickly catching up to the other two.

"Basement…basement…where's the fucking basement?" Addison 'whispered', her voice low and frantic.

"We need to get down there. Fast," was Obi's response, his face schooled into one of blank calm as they hid from the homicidal maniac in the floor above them. "I think it's this way…"

He moved silently over the carpet covered floorboards that creaked with every step taken by the others.

Addison was having a silent panic attack, Laura seemed to be as calm as Obi himself and Ava…

Ava was at an emotional crossroads, which was agitating because never in her life had she had this issue before.

She had no doubt that Mike could handle himself and probably protect Amanda and Daniel easily, but she could sense that something was going to go wrong. There was _something_ that she was missing here.

A heavy footstep above them made the four of them freeze, releasing a collective breath as Xavier didn't break through the ceiling with the nail bat and slaughter them all.

"Let's move," Obi murmured, moving across the foyer and pushing open the basement door. "Come on, hurry up!"

Addison was first down the stairs, almost tripping over in her haste to hide. Laura followed her, her hand still clenched around Ava's arm, and Obi followed, closing the door behind them.

"What now?"

Obi looked up at the basement door, shaking his head.

"Hope to whatever God you worship that that fucker dies before he gets to Mike and the others."

"We need to go back down, past your test, Mike," Amanda whispered, the four remaining survivors clustered tightly in the hallway. "We haven't been down that way yet."

"Right. I'll go first, you follow me, keep Jonas goin'. Daniel, you're gonna keep eyes out behind us," Mike instructed, pulling the knife from his boot and shifting his grip to a reverse-hammer stance. He'd gotten good at knife-fighting; Dave had been big on it for a while, and had wanted a sparring buddy, so he had taught what he learned to Mike.

If they ran into Xavier, Mike would probably be more than a match for him. He'd found an antidote, while Xavier hadn't, and he was armed with a weapon he knew how to use. He had been unconscious for quite a while- and was probably in a similar state to how Jonas was doing now.

"Whatever's left _can't_ be that fucked-up again, right? I mean…this Jigsaw guy, he's gotta run out of ideas at some point, right?" Daniel asked, now walking backward with his hand gripping Amanda's shoulder to keep from losing track of anyone or running into a wall.

"You wish, kid…this shit's been on the news for months, they keep findin' all kinds of fucked-up shit all over the whole city," Jonas rasped. "This is nothin'."

"There's another door over there," Mike cut in, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway with a faint band of light shining beneath the door. "Lights wouldn't be on if it wasn't important, right?"

Five minutes had passed. Five fucking minutes.

Ava's whole body was coiled tighter than a spring and a mixture of apprehension and fury boiled in her stomach.

She couldn't stand being cooped up in this tiny room much longer, hiding and helpless when she could be out there _killing_ that motherfucker that couldn't have the decency to just _die_ and cease being such a nuisance to them all.

"Fuck, FUCK!"

Addison smashed her fists against the wall.

"I can't just fucking wait like this! He's up there, maybe _butchering _them and we're down here like fucking rabbits down a foxhole!"

"Fantastic analogy," Ava shot back, happy to have an outlet, albeit minor, for her mounting aggression. "Maybe you should stick to doing what people pay you for, huh?"

"Hey, fuck you! At least I'm not some sicko murderer that gets off on stringing people up!" Addison snarled, starting forwards, a move Ava mirrored.

"You want to fucking make something of it?"

"Both of you, shut up!"

Laura stood between them, a hand stretched out to each in an effort to shove them apart.

"Jesus, what's wrong with you?"

All the fight drained out of Ava, much to the chagrin of her inner monster and she took a step back.

"Sorry…" Saying it actually made her choke momentarily. "Can't fucking deal with the lack of space down here. I can't _breathe_."

"Claustrophobic?" Obi inquired. Ava shook her head.

"No. Nothing like that."

_More like killer instincts. _Like the need for fight or flight, this feeling was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. She couldn't just sit back and let this all happen.

She heard a roar from above, distinctly human and masculine. Xavier. Or what was left of Xavier.

And by the sounds of it, he was more than a little pissed.

"WHERE ARE YOU!"

Xavier's challenge- there was nothing it _could_ be, but a call for blood- was definitely loud…but it sounded like he was moving in the wrong direction to find them. That meant they still had time.

The door swung open easily as Mike turned the knob, revealing a small room- with a glass box, suspended by chains, hanging in the air just above head level. Standing upright in the center of the box was a syringe, filled with the precious antidote. A padlock held the box shut, in plain view from the door. On closer inspection, it became apparent that a pair of holes were located in the bottom panel of the box.

Too simple. Anyone with half a fucking brain cell could tell that the holes were a trap of some kind. They had to find the key to the lock, or smash the box open.

"Look around in here. There's got to be a key," Mike murmured, glancing around the room. Where could Jigsaw have hidden the key? Was it the same one that they had found in the room they started in?

"There." Daniel pointed to a small end table in the corner of the room just as Mike noticed it himself. On its surface sat yet another envelope; as Mike drew closer to inspect it, the name "Gus" became legible on its front.

Gus? Who the hell was Gus? Was he the greaseball who had died in the room they started in? Who else _could_ he be?

Mike tore the envelope open eagerly, tipping its contents onto the table. Another tape fell from the envelope…as well as a key.

"You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me," Mike groaned, bringing the key back to the padlock and testing it. It fit perfectly- and unlocked the box. Without a second thought, Mike opened it and grabbed the syringe, pulling it free. Some kind of adhesive had been keeping it standing upright all this time- the cap was sticky.

"Jonas. C'mon, man. You need this one. I don't wanna hear any shit about there not being antidotes for Sarin, or not trustin' anyone. I got one, I'm feelin' better."

"A'right, Mike. I trust you, man," Jonas wheezed, shedding his jacket and rolling up a sleeve of his shirt up past the elbow.

Track marks, as well as what looked like a gunshot wound. Was Jonas some kind of hitman, or had he been in a gang?

There would be time to figure that out later. Right now, their primary focus was keeping everyone alive. Mike pressed the hypodermic tip against a particularly large vein in the older man's forearm, pumping the contents of the syringe into his arm smoothly.

"Six down…two to go. Go on back with the others, man. You're not in any shape to keep walkin' around- but they might need you if that fuckbag shows up. Between you and Obi, you can take him, huh?" Mike remarked, grinning. Jonas nodded, seizing Mike's hand in both of his own, then shifting one down to grasp Mike's wrist.

K2K. Mike had seen a few of their members at races exchanging the same handshake.

Better that Jonas didn't know he knew.

"Yeah. Look, Mike, man, I'm not gonna forget this shit when we get back on the outside. You an' me, we ain't blood but we're family, you got that? You need somethin', me an' mine got you."

Jonas wasn't one for eloquent, drawn-out speeches, but what he said, he meant. K2K had been the closest thing to a "decent" gang that the city had seen in years- most of their soldiers weren't smart, but they were loyal, and that was something that had faded with the mob-town "glory days."

"Thanks, Jonas. I'll remember that- same offer goes to you," Mike replied, nodding as they broke from the handshake and his newly-made comrade stepped out into the hallway, treading slowly and quietly.


	11. Run

**Chapter Eleven - Run**

**Co-written with Renegade Vic  


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**

**A/N: We're so very sorry for the lag in updates! We promise we'll be a little more constant with our posting! :D **

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As soon as the needle had been inserted into his skin, clarity had seized Jonas' brain, allowing him to see properly for what felt like the first time since he'd woken up in this hellhole with those people.

Never in his entire life would he ever have thought that he would find such a strong kinship with any of them, let alone Mike King.

But they were brothers, not in blood, not even in arms. Just in heart. A true brother.

A creak of floorboards behind him threw him from his thoughts and he turned, half expecting to see the black-haired psycho chick following him, or Mike coming back for a final word.

To his misfortune, it was neither.

A lumbering beast stood behind him, eyes unfocused and bloodshot. Needles stuck out of infected looking points along his arms and upper thighs. A pause allowed him to count them all. Ten. Ten fuckin' needles stuck in so deep, he could walk without them dislodging.

Xavier. Fuck.

"Hey, my man…"

"Where are they?" The voice that rose gutturally from the drug-lord's throat was barely human, more animal. Like a rabid, hungry dog.

"Look, you can't just…"

"Where. Are. They?"

Jonas didn't know what to do. His knees had become paralyzed at the sight of the drug-dealer. He'd never give up Mike, or any of the others, but that didn't stop him from mulling over the fact that meeting his end by the hands of this motherfucker was going to HURT.

"I can't tell you that, man. I'm sorry…ain't the way we do things."

"I want them," Xavier growled, taking a heavy step forward. "You're gonna tell me where they are."

"Listen to me, man, just stop and listen-"

"Enough with the fuckin' talking!" The demon that had once been Xavier Chavez roared, nail bat held in one meaty hand. Jonas barely had a moment to react before it came swinging towards his face. A moment later, the nails pierced his skull and he knew no more.

The blood rushed out of the black man's head like a crimson fountain, splattering Xavier's face and shirt. It dripped across his lips and his tongue darted out purely out of habit.

Salty. Coppery. Wonderful.

With a brutal tug, he ripped his nail bat from Jonas' face, watching as the other man collapsed onto the ground, falling on his shoulder, his face to the floor.

And a curve of ink caught his eye.

16.

Bending down, Xavier moved his fingers across the back of the corpse's neck, eyes fixed hungrily on the number.

_The numbers are in the back of your mind…the clues to their order can be found…over the rainbow…_

The number was yellow.

Yellow, 16.

He'd decoded Jigsaw's message…and now it was all a matter of finding those fuckers and…taking their numbers.

Xavier was close. Mike heard his voice as he screamed- much too close for comfort.

Then there was the unmistakable, sickening thud. The sound of a body hitting the ground, and hard.

Jonas.

SHIT.

"On the count of three…we're gonna break from here," Mike whispered, gripping the boot knife tightly. "I'll take him down…you two run to the basement. No time to talk about it. I'll get you once he's outta the picture." Daniel stood stock-still, the perfect human equivalent of a deer caught in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler. Amanda was shaking her head, eyes wide with fear.

"Mike…don't. We just have to hide…wait for him to go past…"

"And if he comes in here, then what? Bastard isn't in a talkin' mood. You two are NOT gettin' trapped by that motherfucker. Besides…he can't beat me. We saw that three times already. I trusted you comin' down here, Amanda…you gotta trust me to get you out." Mike pulled the door open slowly, stepping out into the hallway-

-and finding himself face-to-face with Xavier already. Blood flecked his face, his shirt, his arms and hands- and the nail-bat in his hands.

"Mike…" Xavier snarled, eyes bloodshot and sliding in and out of focus. "Turn around. You turn around, I see the back of your neck, you walk away. Don't have to die here."

His vocal patterns had degraded to something just above caveman-speak. Had the situation not been so dire, it would have been hilarious- but the fact that his rage, his demented focus, had reduced him to such a simple level of speech was utterly terrifying. Mike felt his pulse pounding like a jackhammer, a heavy lump forming in his throat that wouldn't fade no matter how many times he swallowed.

"My neck? You wanna see my neck? The fuck are you on about?" Mike retorted, raising the knife and shifting to a combat-ready stance.

_He swings, duck. Bring the blade up, slash the tendons in his armpit. Follow up with the throat._

"There's a number. I want it," Xavier growled. "And now you're fucking around, King!" He drew the bat behind his shoulder in preparation for the swing.

Footsteps sounded behind Mike. Amanda and Daniel were exposed now.

He had to do it. No choice.

"Yeah? See how much fuckin' around I'm doin' with this!" he spat, lunging at Xavier as the behemoth swung the bat, one of the nails grazing his shoulder-

-and found that Xavier had anticipated his move. His wrist was locked, dwarfed in the drug dealer's enormous hand- and before Mike managed to trade the knife to his other hand, Xavier had twisted it, forcing his hand open. The knife clattered to the floor as Xavier shoved Mike back against the wall.

"RUN! Fucking run!"

Screaming…hurried almost running footsteps…

"_RUN! Fucking RUN!"_

Ava's eyes snapped open at the sound of Mike's panicked voice. He was never panicked…unless of course something had gone wrong and Xavier had found them.

Oh, shit!

"We can't just fucking leave them up there!" Addison protested, once again voicing Ava's concerns to the point where it was starting to seem like the hooker was reading her mind.

"Mike told me to keep you all safe," Obi replied, but his eyes were raised to the ceiling as well. "I'm going to keep you safe."

"Fuck, being safe!" Ava, or the Puppeteer snarled. "That fucker is up there killing them and you just wanna fucking _sit here?_"

"We haven't got any other options!"

"How about we work as a fuckin' team like Jigsaw wants and _help them?_"

Obi eyed her carefully, her break in character seemingly of great interest to him.

"Until we think it's safe, I'm not risking any of you getting hurt."

His calm tone infuriated Ava beyond comprehension, but what bewildered her more was…why did she suddenly care?

Her whole life, she'd lived as a solitary being. No friends. No living relatives. Nothing. And now, she was on the edge of her seat about the prospect of the lives of three people she barely knew? The closest thing she'd ever had to friends were these people…and now they were in danger.

Even her inner monster was furious at the prospect of having them taken from her in such a terrible way.

"The moment it goes quiet up there, I'm going up," she growled at Obi, daring him to challenge her. "Don't try to stop me."

Obi stared at her again, this time holding eye-contact. "I won't."

Out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw both Daniel and Amanda rush past, practically sprinting to the end of the hall.

He'd bought them the time they needed to get away. Hopefully they'd find somewhere to hide…he probably wouldn't be able to stop Xavier anymore, but he'd at least be able to stall him. Maybe even do a little damage first.

The hand that clamped down on his throat, however, seemed to disagree. Xavier was bent on making the kill personal…and painful. Mike's vision swam as the brutish drug dealer continued to choke the life out of him, drawing the nail-bat back with an animalistic grin.

"Shoulda cooperated," Xavier hissed, swinging the bat.

Time was slowing down around Mike again as he watched the bat moving toward him. He could practically count the nails studding it, could see the flecks of rust and bits of tissue still stuck to them.

That was going to fucking _hurt_ when it connected.

_If_ it connected.

It couldn't. He had to live…which meant Xavier had to miss. And die.

Mike threw all his weight into a single strike aimed at the inside of Xavier's elbow, feeling the pressure around his throat slacken as the blow connected. The momentum of the strike carried Mike forward, ducking just below the bat as it swept overhead.

He had to get away. Xavier had him outmatched- the drug dealer's rage and desperation outweighed the adrenaline pumping through Mike's veins. He had to get a weapon in his hands- something bigger than the knife.

That could only happen if he lived long enough to get away.

_Press the advantage._

Mike threw what weight he had against Xavier, pushing him across the hallway and into the wall with force that belied his size. A series of palm-strikes to the taller man's solar plexus left him winded and doubled over, attempting to grab hold of Mike again.

"Get the fuck…OFF OF ME!" Mike roared, seizing Xavier's wrist and locking it out as he pivoted past the drug dealer's reach with the bat.

Straight shot.

_Go._

With one final shove that left Xavier unbalanced, Mike took off at a dead sprint, ducking off down the hallway that led to the room they had started in.

Chair leg. Revolver. Anything.

It wasn't until he pushed past the steel door that Mike realized exactly what he had just done.

Daniel and Amanda were both standing immediately in front of him.

Xavier would follow him…and find them.

FUCK.

The noise above had died somewhat, but Ava could still hear Xavier's heavy footsteps. She was getting antsy. She wanted out, she wanted to fight, she wanted to _save them_.

Another bunch of emotions she didn't know how to fucking handle. It was getting harder and harder to sit still, so she had begun pacing the length of the room, head angled to the floor, watching as her boots hit the ground with each step she took, the black leather taking on a slight sheen in this light.

"Can you stop fuckin' pacing?" Laura snapped anxiously. "I can't relax when you're doing that."

"You're trying to _relax?_" Ava demanded, eyes wide. "_How_ could you even considering relaxing right now?"

"If I'm not relaxed, I can't think straight. If I can't think straight, I panic." The blonde looked down at her hands. "Don't want to panic right now, okay?"

Ava's shoulders slumped and she exhaled heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose. It was getting worse. In an effort to cope with the new concept of stress, she was lashing out at anyone that rose to her.

"The door to the house should be opening soon," Obi commented quietly. "We're going to survive, you know."

"Yeah, we know." Surprisingly, Addison didn't sound overly enthusiastic at the prospect. "Wonder if we'll end up doing exactly what we got thrown in for again, huh? Tell you one thing. Moment I get out of here, I'm gonna become a fuckin' nun for the rest of my life."

"Given your profession, probably a good idea. Should be a novel experience."

"Fuck you."

But the phrase was said without bite, only a kind of resignation. Addison was tired, Ava could tell. And she didn't blame her. It had been some night after all.

Quieter…where had they gone?

"He's comin'," Mike panted, pulling the door shut behind him and pressing his back against it. "Xavier's gonna find us. I was fuckin' stupid. Didn't know you guys were here. He's gonna-"

"No…no he's not," Amanda cut him off. "Help me with this…quick. If we want to live…" She began to push the safe, sliding it inch by inch away from the center of the room.

Hinges. The legs of the safe had been sitting on top of hinges…there was a trapdoor in the floor. How had Amanda known?

Did it matter? This was their way out. Survival was more important than the reasons behind it. Mike stepped in alongside Amanda, pushing the safe with the strength of a man driven by desperation.

Xavier was _not_ going to get to them. The safe was clear of the hinges now, and a metal ring sat recessed into one of the boards. Mike seized it and pulled-

-and found it wouldn't budge.

Locked.

"Key. It needs a fucking key!" Mike hissed, glancing around the room frantically. Where had they seen keys?

Where _hadn't_ they seen keys? Most of their tests had involved locating keys and opening locked doors. And all the keys had been different- that much, he had noticed.

This one needed a fairly small key. Smaller than the door keys…and shaped differently than the key to the padlock they had unlocked in Gus' test.

Gus. The rigged door.

The _key_.

"Key from the door," Mike blurted out, turning to face the door. The key was still in the lock where Xavier had left it. He lunged for it, pulling it from its resting place-

-and the door began to open.

Xavier.

Mike threw his weight against the door, barely managing to push it shut again.

"Catch! And fucking go!" he shouted, tossing the key to Amanda, who wasted no time in unlocking the trapdoor and disappearing down it.

"Mike, come on, you've got-"

"Not yet! Go on, kid- stick with Amanda! She's done this shit before, she knows what to do! GO!"

A jarring force on the other side of the door threatened to throw Mike face-first into the safe. Xavier had rammed it, probably with his shoulder- but Mike had held up against the impact.

"_Go_, dammit!"


	12. Dead Silence

**Chapter Twelve - Dead Silence**

**Co-written with Renegade Vic**

* * *

Silence.

Ava's patience had run thin, and now she could hear nothing in the floor above them, only the faint smashes of a heavy body against something. Probably the man that had been formerly known as Xavier, but she couldn't be sure.

"I'm out," she said sharply to Obi. "I'm gonna go see if I can do anything."

"Are you fucking _insane?_ Do you have a fucking death wish or something?" Laura demanded, her eyes wide with fear and disbelief.

Ava gritted her teeth.

"Fact of the matter is, I stand a better chance against that fucker than any of _you _do at this point, even with slashed wrists. I know how to fucking kill a guy."

"Yeah, we got that," Addison shot at her. "Go on. Leave. You're right, they need help and you're probably the best 'gal' for the job."

She couldn't tell if the hooker's tone was serious or condescending, but Ava nodded at her anyway.

"Get out of here. All of you. Do yourself a favour and wait in the foyer for the door to open. Should only take a little while and when it does, get out, find a payphone and call the cops."

Not bothering to wait for a response, she sprinted up the short staircase and pushed open the basement door, stepping out.

She could hear the faint sounds of someone yelling, masculine. If she'd wager a guess, she'd say Mike, but she couldn't be sure.

One thing she could be sure of was that she had no fucking idea where it was coming from, and there was no way she was going to yell out and give away her position. Xavier could still be wandering around here, pissed as hell and armed with the nail bat, which guaranteed a quick, albeit painful death.

Shit.

The pounding was getting less frequent, but more forceful, with each impact. Xavier might have been wearing down…or he might have been getting a running start. In any case, Mike wasn't going to be able to hold the door much longer.

_After the next one…_

BAM! Xavier threw himself against the door again- and as soon as the door had shut again, Mike made for the trapdoor, descending the steep staircase as quickly as his feet would carry him.

At the bottom of the staircase, barely illuminated by the light from the room above, was what looked like a maintenance tunnel. Where had they gone?

"Amanda? Daniel?" Mike called into the darkness, fear of the unknown that lay in the tunnel stopping him from leaving the patch of light at the bottom of the stairs.

"This way!" Amanda's voice rang out from within the darkness.

That was enough reassurance for him. With a hand along the slick stone wall to keep his bearings, Mike began to run headlong into the dark, the sound of his footsteps- and Xavier's enraged bellowing, far behind- setting a tempo that his heart outstripped with ease.

BAM!

Ava heard the heavy collision of body and wood from somewhere further away. Someone was trying to break down a door and from the faint sounds of splintering, it seemed as though they were quite successful.

God, was she too late?

Her legs felt paralyzed as she stumbled toward the origin of the noise, trying to school herself into the impenetrably, steely calm that she adopted as the Puppeteer, but it wouldn't come, no matter how hard she wished for it. She was going to have to accomplish this as Ava Sullivan and not as her deadly alter ego. It threw a spanner in the works, even if it WAS just a small one. In any case, it was enough to stuff up the gears a little.

"I KNOW YOU'RE THERE!" Xavier's voice, amplified by whatever unearthly force that had seized him. "I KNOW YOU'RE FUCKING THERE!"

Xavier's nostrils were flared as he took a few steps back and rammed into the heavy metal door.

Which promptly swung inward and fell off one of its hinges, hanging loosely by the remaining one. Doors couldn't stop him from succeeding. No fucking rocker bastard was going to stop him either. All Xavier wanted was the numbers…and then maybe he'd let them go free.

Or, better yet, he could strangle that long-haired fucker with his own intestinal tract. Yeah…

He decided that he liked the latter option better. Xavier lumbered into the room, his vision blurred to the point that making out the finer details had become impossible.

Fuckin'…

He stopped, staring at the large hole in the middle of the floor. Looked like some kind of trapdoor…

A grin spread across the drug lord's face as he stepped down into the dark abyss as the stairs disappeared.

"Gotcha now, motherfucker."

One moment, Mike was running, his lungs burning and the cracked rib he had incurred earlier screaming in protest; the next, he was sprawled face-first on the ground, a warm body pinned beneath him. If nothing else, he had _found_ Amanda, even if the dark made it impossible to see.

"Fuck! Get off!" she cried out, pushing Mike off as she regained her footing.

"It's me," Mike reassured her. "Where's Daniel?"

"I'm here," the youth whispered. Apparently he was only a few feet away- Mike could almost make out a silhouette that looked like him.

"We've gotta stick together. Can't get lost down here…we're never comin' back up if we do," Mike warned, fumbling around in the dark until he found Amanda's wrist and taking hold of it. She hissed in pain, trying to pull away- he had forgotten. "Fuck…sorry," he mumbled, shifting his grip down to her hand.

"Daniel, come here," Amanda murmured, wrapping her free arm around his waist for support. "We have to keep moving…"

"Where the fuck are you?" Xavier's voice rang out, somewhere in the service tunnel. It was impossible to tell exactly where he was- which made him all the more dangerous.

"Go," Mike whispered, pulling Amanda along behind him with Daniel trailing not far behind. They had to keep moving, had to find a way out- or lose Xavier.

The odds weren't looking so good for that last one.

Ava didn't like the feel of the house. It seemed stupid, but it was though the moment Xavier walked into the room they'd all woken up in, the electricity in the air intensified by the power of ten.

She didn't like it, because she knew it meant that something was wrong. Or that something was about to _go_ terribly wrong… Xavier, Mike, Amanda and Daniel had vanished and there was no way to actively find them before something else happened to them. Xavier was still armed and she wasn't sure whether or not Mike had the knife, or his shovel. And if he didn't, he'd led himself and the other two to their deaths. The Latino drug lord was coming for blood and would never, ever stop until he bled each of them out until there wasn't a single drop of blood left in their bodies.

At least some good had come of the rampage. Ava now knew exactly where the room was and if the psychotic dealer had gone in their, it meant that he was following the three, or at least one of them.

Following him would likely lead her to the rest.

The kid was still susceptible to the gas, and as far as she knew, so was Amanda, unless by some miraculous coincidence she'd managed to snag an antidote without having to suffer through one of Jigsaw's devices.

If not, she would be likely in the same state that Ava had been prior to her trap. Mike would need some form of back up and Amanda was definitely not going to be in any condition.

Now it had simply become a game of cat and mouse, a game she was quite familiar with. And there was only one way to win.

Don't be the mouse.

Down in the dark, with no ability to see the distance they had covered, time seemed an abstract notion of Mike, Amanda, and Daniel. It simply didn't matter how long they had been running from Xavier- all that mattered was that they keep doing so, no matter how many times they slipped, how badly their bodies protested.

It was better than dying at the hands of the inhuman berserker that was following them.

Then, suddenly, their progress was halted- by a door Mike had been unable to see. The three of them crashed full-tilt into it, knocking it open as they sprawled in a tangled heap on the floor.

"Wha…where are we?" Daniel asked, rising to his feet and groping blindly in the darkness for a wall. He didn't have long to search.

"Fuck if I know. He probably heard that, though…" Amanda whispered, pulling Mike to his feet as she stood, her grip on his arm as tight as a vice.

She was scared. This wasn't how the games were supposed to go- that much was obvious. Jigsaw had clearly not taken into account a violent lunatic like Xavier going on a murderous rampage…and it was more than Amanda seemed able to deal with.

Without warning, the fluorescent lights switched on, casting a harsh, blue-white glow on their surroundings.

What they had stumbled into had once been a bathroom- the sort the city would build for workers who were expected to stay in an area for extended periods of time. But it had been abandoned long ago.

And then rediscovered, if the pair of corpses were any indication. They had been here for quite a while, already decayed past the point of smelling like anything but the sickly-sweet odor of death.

_Wait_ _a_ _minute_. The body in the corner…his face…

It was Adam.

"Oh…oh, fuck…" Mike groaned, backing away in slow, halting steps from the body that had once been his friend.

His "easy job" had gotten him killed. And if the tunnel leading to the house was any indication, Jigsaw was responsible for it.

Xavier let out a roar as he heard, and smelt, his prey ahead of him. They'd run into something. A door? A dead end? An exit?

Despite how much he wanted to escape, he found himself hoping that they hadn't found an exit. The murderous rage inside him, barely contained now, was rearing to go. And if _he_ didn't get to escape, it also meant that _they_ didn't get to escape. And he got to kill them, which was the whole point of this little expedition anyway. He'd rip King's head off and _then_ see what his number what, the rocker's head would be his prize. A souvenir of the time spent in this house under Jigsaw's watchful eye. It would serve as a reminder to Xavier…people only ever got in your way, prevented you from fulfilling your duties and had to be eliminated.

It was simple fact for someone like him, but he was certain that no one else would understand why. It was his law. He would live by it. Anyone who had a problem with it could join the black fucker upstairs and he'd be glad to help them there.

He stumbled over some loose brickwork, breathing heavily through his mouth.

They were here…they were here _somewhere_. He was gonna find them. There's only so far you can run when there's a locked door involved.

The moment Ava entered the room, she knew exactly what was going on and where she could find Mike, Amanda and Daniel…and Xavier, but she was hoping to avoid him. There was a trapdoor in the middle of the room but it had been concealed by the safe. Now, it yawning wide like a mouth in the centre of the tiny room, it was revealed. A way out? Or just another maze? She didn't know or care.

She wanted to get out of the house, but she also didn't want to leave anyone behind, least of all to that lumbering creature.

As the familiar coldness built in her stomach, Ava inhaled sharply. It was there. It was with her.

Already she could hear the soft, cooing voice echoing in her head.

_Go. Go, now before they're all dead. _

She had no choice but to obey, taking a step down the stairs and vanishing into the dark, her entire body flooded with purpose. If she found Xavier, or if Xavier found her, she would be ready.

"What the fuck…what is this place?" Mike asked, Daniel echoing his words half a syllable behind. Amanda was speechless, her eyes locked on the pair of bodies. It was impossible to tell what was going through her mind- but she looked terrified beyond words.

They should never have come down to this place. It was a death-trap…the more Mike stared at Adam's decaying body, the more revolted he became.

_Is that…a chain, on his leg?_

"We…we should go…get outta here…" Mike stammered, his stomach clenching like it had just after he had finished his test. Nausea was setting in. He turned toward the door-

-and found himself staring down Xavier once again.

"Do…not…move…" the drug dealer snarled, the expression on his face no longer even human. "I just want the number off the back of your necks." He took a step toward Mike, reaching out with the nail-bat toward the smaller man's chest. "You…you're gonna fuckin' die, though."

So this was it. They had come this far, fought this hard to survive…and Xavier was going to kill them all in this godforsaken bathroom and add to the body count that the room already held.

Somehow, it was funny. Outrageously funny. The sheer irony was overwhelming.

"You don't…know your own number!" Mike shouted, grinning for all the world like some possessed, twisted puppet. "How are you gonna get it without us? You think they'll help you if you kill me, you stupid fuck?"

Both Daniel and Amanda had backed into the corner by Adam's body. Mike wasn't sure, but it looked almost like Amanda had picked something up off of the floor…

Xavier shook his head, pulling the knife Mike had dropped earlier from the waistband of his pants.

"This…"

Ava could hear them. She could hear the low growl of Xavier and the sharp snap of Mike as he tried to deter the drug-dealer from his chosen goal…which seemed to be killing the street-racer.

She ran, blinded by darkness, but she didn't stop. She had to find them! She needed-

With a yelp, Ava tripped over a large, heavy…something…that lay in the corridor, sending her sprawling. She found out a few moments later that falling on slit wrists, even if they are bandaged, is an _excruciatingly_ painful experience.

With a gasp of agony, she rolled onto her back, holding both arms to her chest. They were bleeding again, she could feel the hot blood seeping from the wounds and into the black material that bound them.

Dammit. The gas wasn't gonna kill her, the aftermath of Jigsaw's fucking trap would. FUCK!

Hauling herself to her feet, Ava glanced down at what she had tripped over, unclear in the dark…but then she froze, her upper lip curling in distaste.

She couldn't be sure, but it _looked_ like a body. Though, it could have just been a dummy…she wasn't about to look closely at it.

No, wait. Definitely a body.

Of what she could see -and smell- the decomposition process was well into affect.

"God, fucking…guhhh…"

Ava stumbled past the corpse, her hands on the walls to guide her. Seems like they weren't the only ones to fall into Jigsaw's hands. Only difference between here and the maggot-meal back there was one simple thing. She had passed.

Xavier wasn't thinking. His mind had been consumed by red haze and the realization that King had, in fact, been right, only fueled this rage. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill him, it had become less of a want and more of a need. He _needed_ to kill him. But he also needed his number.

He held the knife over his shoulder, bracing himself for the Necessary Pain. To win, he would have to hurt himself. But only for a little while. Then he would have his number, kill the kid, the bitch and the street racer, collect the numbers from the others…and then he would have his antidote. And he would win, as he was always meant to.

Hesitating only for a moment, he stuck the knife blade into the flesh on the back of his neck with a cry of pain, sawing away at the skin with the knife on a side angle, as to avoid missing the number entirely. The number was important. The number was vital. He couldn't trust anyone to tell him what it was. This was the only way!

Xavier was…cutting the flesh off the back of his neck, just to get a number that would do him no good. Even if he _did_ manage to kill them and take their numbers, he'd never find the others in time. And if he did find them, Obi would stop him. Would kill him.

It was still funny, in its own twisted way. At least, it would have been, had Mike not been staring down a man who was truly so insane as to carve his own skin away to pursue a lost cause.

"You're fuckin' sick, you know that? So you get us, you get your number. The fuck is it gonna help? You'll never find the others in time!"

_Please, slip. Cut your spinal cord. Hit an artery. Do _something_ stupid…_ Mike pleaded silently to whatever deities were listening. He knew better than to hope, really…but maybe, just maybe, he'd piss Xavier off so badly that his hand slipped.

No such luck. The drug dealer was so absorbed with the process of obtaining his number that he was deaf to the world around him. Could they run? Would it do them any good to start running again, to go back up to the house? If they got far enough ahead of him, could they push the safe on top of the trapdoor and leave him to die?

Daniel was in no state to move anymore. He had sunk to the floor, curled into a ball, and ceased to move.

_Don't be dead, kid…c'mon, don't do this to me…_

He should have given Daniel the antidote he had found. Should have held out a little longer, maybe he'd still have been all right…


	13. Jigsaw Ex Machina

**Chapter Thirteen - Jigsaw Ex Machina **

**Co-written with Renegade Vic**

A/N: An extra special shout-out to Jacalyn Hyde for reviewing, extensively, every single chapter of this story up to this point! Means a lot to us ^^ 

* * *

Then the kid lurched up, his eyes wide and flashing with a rage that no one would have expected of him. His body was wound tighter than a spring and in his hands…in his hands…

Xavier barely had time to blink before the kid slashed his throat with the rusty hacksaw that he gripped tightly in his hand. The drug dealer gasped, inhaling blood as he dropped the knife and grabbed at his own throat, trying to stem the flow of blood with no success. His hands were coated in thick, red blood that flowed steadily with every last beat of his heart. His vision became fuzzy, unfocused and he fell to his knees and collapsed, the last of his life-blood covering the grimy tiled floor.

Xavier Chavez was beaten.

Daniel dropped the hacksaw, his face dropping from pale to completely fucking white as he backed away from the newly-dead creature on the ground.

"Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god…"

"Ease up, kid." Ava had chosen that moment to step into the room and was eyeing Xavier's corpse with distaste, walking purposefully around the growing pool of blood and shaking her head at it.

"I can think of worse ways to go," she muttered, an annoyed tone seeping into her voice. "Shame he never got to experience them."

After all the shit this motherfucker had caused, he had been granted a quick and relatively painless death. Didn't seem right to her.

"Jesus, fuck. He's dead. I killed him. He's dead…" Daniel was blubbering, eyes on Xavier's blood covered body and seeming unable to look away from it.

"Quite the observant one," she muttered idly, turning to Mike and Amanda, who looked as pale as Daniel, if not more so.

"Had to come and make sure you got out okay," Ava explained, raising her eyes to the ceiling as to avoid eye contact.

"Th…thanks," Mike responded, his gaze fixed on Xavier's finally-still body. So that was what it had finally taken. A hacksaw to the throat. His entire windpipe had been slashed open- Daniel had put a lot of power behind that single swing.

"The doors should be open by now," Amanda murmured, pointing to the clock that hung just above the sliding door. "We can…we can go."

"What about the antidote?" Mike asked, still struggling to process what had just happened.

If they left without getting the antidote…wouldn't they die? Wouldn't the gas have already entered their bloodstream?

"We don't need it. I…I owe all of you some explanations, but I'm not sure I'm the one who can…who can explain it like you need to hear it." Amanda sidestepped the body in the center of the floor- the one with the demolished face, it looked as if he had been beaten to death with the toilet lid beneath him- and approached Mike, eyes downcast.

What was she saying? That she knew something _else_ about everything that had happened?

"All right," Mike replied, nodding in numb acceptance. "But I want to know the whole story…"

Ava frowned at Amanda, who by now was nibbling on her bottom lip, either out of anxiety or habit, she wasn't quite sure.

"I'll tell you everything," she said quietly, still refusing to meet their gazes. "But you have to let me finish before you say anything…or make any judgments, okay?"

Mike glanced over in Ava's direction, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and apprehension. If she was already worrying about what they would think…exactly what _had_ she done to become so paranoid about it?

"Alright," Ava said slowly. "Let's hear it. All of it."

Amanda glanced sideways, catching the full glare of the other woman's eyes before looking down at her feet again.

"Two months ago, I was put in a Jigsaw trap," she began, her voice low."I woke up…wearing something called a Reverse Bear Trap, a device that would tear my head in half, basically."

She swallowed heavily. "I had…I had to cut the key to the trap out of the stomach of a man who was in the room with me…a man who wasn't dead."

Ava's stomach twisted in distaste. She could slit a man open from chin to stomach, but she'd _never_ considering rooting around in the still living organs of a human being.

"I got the key. I survived. I got out and…I started putting my life back together, y'know? Got a job. Through the habit, all that stuff. And then I came home one day…"

She bit her lip, now shifting her weight from foot-to-foot.

"And John was there waiting for me."

"I'm sorry. Who?"

Amanda looked slowly at Ava, a small smile on the other woman's lips.

"Jigsaw. John Kramer. He found me. And I found him. I found a father, a mentor, a teacher. He took me in…and made me whole again."

"So you're…connected to this guy. Like an apprentice, or something?" Mike asked, hardly daring to believe his ears. Amanda not only looked up to this Jigsaw guy- John, she had said- but she'd met him…and here she was, involved in another of his sick "games."

"You could say that," Amanda answered, still hesitant. "He needed someone who could help him…someone who could understand what he was doing. He helped me…what could I do?"

He was right. It was definitely her.

He had taken Addison to an addiction clinic to try and get her to shake her habits…and while she had been in a therapy session, he had seen Amanda there as well. She had been a mess back then- Mike remembered that much. And then there was Cecil…

The memory of the arrogant, territorial, insufferable sack of shit burned in the pit of Mike's stomach like an ulcer. All he had been doing was making polite conversation…and Cecil had completely flipped his fucking wig, and come in swinging without any explanation. He'd missed, of course, and gotten a broken nose and black eye in return- but Mike had been "asked" to leave the clinic after that.

"You're that girl from the clinic, the one with the jackass guy who tried to pick a fight with me…" Mike was staring- he knew that much. But he couldn't help it. The likelihood of meeting her again was a small one and yet, here they were.

"Yeah…" Amanda replied, still staring off anywhere but at the others. Something about those memories had caught her off-guard; an expression that looked like guilt hung over her face like a shroud.

"This is…unexpected…" Mike trailed off.

"So, you two know each other," Ava commented mildly, her eyebrows furrowed as she fought to maintain her composure. "Peachy. Lovely. Really, I'm happy for you. But, can we focus on the topic at hand please? Because we've just realized that she is _**working for the motherfucker that put us in here!**__"_

Amanda…Amanda the junkie who'd be tested by Jigsaw before…was _working_ for him? After everything that Ava thought she knew, she'd been totally proved wrong by this…this…junkie bitch!

_She_ had been responsible for dragging them all in here. She could have got them out in a matter of minutes, but no. She'd stayed and played them all for the idiots they were. Why else would Jigsaw have a previous survivor in with them? To make sure they all played by his rules, his _fucking rules!_

"Ava, calm down, please-"

"I…" she was breathing had through her nostrils in an effort to control herself, "will _not_ calm down. _I_ have been put through the most fucking _agonizing_ three hours of my goddamn _life_ in here and she knew exactly how the _fuck_ we could get out!"

Amanda had taken a quick step back, looking as though she was about to hide behind Mike, but she didn't.

She was more or less standing her ground, her hands clenched into fists and her face set into one of defiance.

"You're alive," she said, her voice strong but shaking. "You won. You survived."

"I wouldn't have had to," Ava snarled back. "If it weren't for _you!"_

"Hold it, Ava. Think about this for a minute," Mike cut in. "Jigsaw had shit on all of us _without_ her…and she helped us. You, me, everyone else…we'd probably be _dead_ if she hadn't been here."

"I was the…'insurance policy.' I was supposed to keep Daniel alive. John wants to test Eric Matthews, and he's using this to do it. I don't know how he's doing it…but he told me that much."

Everything they were doing…was being done to fuck with Matthews? If that had been the goal, all he'd have to have done was ask.

"Still could've gotten us out of here, th-"

"No, I couldn't. I helped build some of this- the door is the only way out." The finality in Amanda's voice left no doubt in Mike's mind that she was telling the truth- at least, the truth as far as she knew it.

Ava was still simmering with rage, but she had to admit that there was some truth in Mike's words. She _had_ helped them, despite everything. By the sound of it, she had been asked into this game almost against her will, but had done it due to a kind of twisted loyalty to the serial killer.

And this house…this was all to 'test' Eric Matthews, the fucker that had framed and put away everyone in the house, with the exception of his son. The son must have been the test, or at least a big part of it.

"Fine," she muttered around clenched teeth. "I guess that's the truth then. But if you're lying to me, I swear-"

"I'm not lying," Amanda cut her off. "I'm done with lying to you both. You've passed your tests. You've…you've been fixed."

Ava's eyebrows rose.

"Fixed? I've been 'fixed'?"

"Yeah…it's what…it's what his methods do. Once you see death up close, then you know what the value of life is-"

"Sounds like a fuckin' fortune cookie," Ava snapped. "Who the fuck is this Jigsaw guy anyway? You called him John. John who? I think we deserve to know exactly who's responsible for putting us here, don't you?"

She wanted to know. Ava was sick to death of being kept in the dark about this whole thing. It was time to shed some light on the subject as far as she was concerned.

"Kramer. She already said so, Ava," Mike answered, edging a step away from Xavier's body. "Fuck if I know who he is, though. Name ring a bell?"

"Kramer…John Kramer…" Ava repeated, seemingly lost in a fog of memory. Mike shrugged, glancing toward Daniel.

"We've gotta get out of here. All of us. Yeah, there's things we haven't figured out yet…but I don't feel like stickin' around waiting for _this_ fucker-" Mike gestured toward Xavier's body, already beginning to smell faintly of the same cloying, suffocating odor that the bathroom seemed to embody- "to start smellin'. Besides…this place freaks the fuck out of me."

"Yeah. We can…we can keep talking about all of this once we get out of here," Daniel agreed, tossing the hacksaw next to Xavier's body. "I just wanna get out of here."

"What about you?" Amanda asked, her attention turned back to Ava. "You're probably more used to it than any of us…but if you still want to know more, I can take you to him."

Ava's upper lip curled as she glanced sideways down at the corpse. She didn't like the smell of dead bodies any more than anybody else, even if she _did_ see them on a more regular basis than many others.

_John Kramer…_

She remembered the name. It felt like almost a lifetime ago that she had heard it, or spoken to the owner. Never in a million years would she have guessed that _he_ was the Jigsaw Killer. He'd been quite a pleasant, intelligent man from what she could recall, not a maniac that put people in mortally-dangerous devices that more than often ripped the victim apart.

"I think we should meet your 'mentor'. I'm perfectly happy to walk away from this sack of decaying meat," she replied, her voice of mocking good humour. "And maybe I could borrow a few proper bandages?" She held up her wrists for emphasis. "Don't think this material's gonna cut it."

Amanda nodded, looking a little more heartened than she had a few moments ago. Perhaps the realization that Ava wasn't up to her best had lessened her anxiety.

"Come on, it's this way."

Stepping ahead, Amanda walked quickly out of the bathroom, not once glancing back to make sure that the others were coming. Daniel went first, followed by Mike, who jerked his head towards the door at her before moving out of sight

Ava hung back a moment, considering her options and the chances of escape by other means, before sharply cursing and rushing to catch up.

./.

The old Wilson Steel building.

It had been a landmark they used for races, back before the Triads had overrun this part of the city and made street racing even _more_ of a test of survival. Mike had narrowly escaped crashing head-on into the building once, when Jericho had pulled a PIT maneuver and nearly spun him out, nearly three years prior.

Now it was the home to this "Jigsaw." Amanda had led them through the back entrance and into a service elevator. "Don't take the stairs. Ever," she had warned. Considering the nature of the new inhabitant, Mike had no intention of discovering _why_ she had felt the need to make that point.

"Ah…Amanda. Good. You have Daniel- and, it seems, Mike and Ava," John spoke, his tone shifting from one of welcome to concern. "Obi came by not long before you got here. He told me that the four of you had disappeared."

"Xavier went berserk…he was chasing us. We ran down into the tunnels…to the bathroom," Amanda replied, something in her own voice changing as well.

"He killed Jonas…but now he's dead," Mike added, trying to take in the sheer amount of information the room was throwing at him. Blueprints, diagrams, half-finished sketches of traps covered every available surface, sticking out of file cabinets, covering the walls as if John had created them simply to use as wallpaper.

"I know. I've been watching." John unfolded his hands, leaning forward onto the desk before him. "I was unable to listen to anything that took place, but I was watching your progress through your tests. Your actions in particular, Mike, are interesting to me. You took Obi's test as your own, even knowing that there was some sort of danger involved- and allowed Obi to use the antidote you had earned in doing so to save Laura. You intervened in Xavier's test, even though you were not the victim of his actions. Why?"

The question caught Mike off-guard. John had almost sounded like he was _praising_ his actions, for a moment- but the question was as probing, as sharp as an accusation. Was he angry that Mike had been playing by his own rules?

"We needed the edge, early in," Mike explained, thinking back to the furnace- to the second antidote that had come with the risk of activating the trap…to his escape. "If we got more antidotes, faster…more people made it out. And Xavier was a fuckin' coward…tryin' to make someone else do what he had to do."

Ava hung back away from the rest of them, standing in the shadows but close enough to still hear exactly what was going on. As far as she was concerned, she was here only because she'd wanted out and to meet the mind behind the Jigsaw killings for the second time, only this time she knew who he really was.

John Kramer looked as though he had aged ten years since she last seen him. His hair was whiter, his face dry and weathered, his lips were cracked and he looked frail, despite the fact that he was only just into his fifties. It would be heartbreaking to anyone else, but Ava's wrists had begun to sting once more, which greatly limited her ability for compassion.

"You put the lives of others before yourself," John said slowly, putting emphasis on each word. "You were willing to risk your own demise to protect…and save them."

"He led us," Amanda said, a touch of admiration seeping into her voice. "He kept us together. So, we all lived."

"Jonas didn't," Ava growled from her place in the corner. "Because of that _creature_ a good man died."

She wasn't looking, but she could _feel_ John staring at her.

"You take offence to the idea of a 'good man' being killed, Ava?"

"I take offence to the idea of a good man dying for nothing," she shot back, raising her eyes to glare at the elderly man. "Being _murdered_ for nothing."

"And how is Xavier any different from you?" John replied, his voice sharpening but the volume remained steady. "You and him…are one in the same."

Ava blinked, her mouth slightly agape.

"Me…and him? The _same?_" Her teeth clenched as her hand curled into a fist. "You…you have no fucking idea-"

"I assure you, my dear, I have every _fucking_ idea. I've been following your exploits for a long time. You've deluded yourself into thinking you're doing good. But the truth of the matter is, you choose to take out your urges on who you deem 'evil men', so that there is less chance that the police will follow you and prosecute you. Being a vigilante may be against the law, but it is not frowned upon by everyone. And you know that, don't you."

It wasn't a question.

Trembling with rage, Ava shut her mouth, dropping her eyes immediately and slumping until her back hit the wall behind her. He was right. On some level, she'd always know that that was the reason, but had chosen to ignore the possibility. She was cleaning up the streets solely to satisfy her own urges.

He knew her.


End file.
